


Indiscretions

by shandyall



Category: Glee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-04 15:02:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 47,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1082427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shandyall/pseuds/shandyall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As childhood best friends in the 40’s and secret high school sweethearts in the 50’s, Kurt and Blaine never would have guessed they’d both end up married to women in the 60’s. But even when the world they live in keeps them from walking hand in hand, there’s nothing they can’t face side by side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You Send Me (January, 1958)

**Author's Note:**

> This story will be told out of order. Each chapter will have a year and a song connected to it. I’ve already written 18 chapters and I plan on posting on Tuesdays and Saturdays for the duration of the hiatus.
> 
> It might not be everyone’s cup of tea because, as it says in the summary, both boys end up married to women, Kurt to Quinn and Blaine to Kitty. (For the record, Klaine gets their happy ending eventually.) There’s some infidelity and also gay stereotypes and homophobic terms from that time period that pop up here and there. If you have any questions or concerns feel free to shoot me an ask anytime.
> 
> Thanks to Aliza for the beta and to Alianne for not just the beta, but the motivation and the patience to listen to me babble about this fic for the past month.

Kurt and Blaine had been outside shoveling snow for what seemed like weeks, even though it had really only been most of the morning.

It had snowed all night long and the boys were thrilled when school was called off that Monday morning. As soon as he heard, Blaine had hopped the fence to Kurt’s yard and then they set off to shovel the neighbor’s sidewalks, promising Kurt’s mom they’d eat something when they were done. They made two dollars each that freezing cold morning, not too bad at all. And Mrs. Brennan had given them some of the best hot chocolate either of them had ever tasted.

“I put a splash of Bailey’s in it for you, keep you warm,” she said in her light brogue as they stood on her screened in porch, dripping on her all weather rug. At nearly sixteen the boys had tasted alcohol before, but they had never had so much of it on empty stomachs.

They were very warm indeed when they went back out into the weather, filled with a sudden zeal for snow shoveling. When they had shoveled all the way up the block and back they finally decided they’d had enough.

“Your house or mine?” Blaine asked, barely able to catch his breath.

Kurt’s mom had driven off as soon as the roads cleared to check on his grandmother who lived upstate. Blaine’s mom had taken the train into the city from their neighborhood in Queens because she was a nurse and it’s not like hospitals can close for snow. They could go to either house and there would be no mom around to bother them, but Kurt knew that his house did tend to have better food options.

“How about mine?,” Kurt offered.

He tried so hard not to look too closely at the way that Blaine’s cheeks were lit up pink in the cold late morning air. The snow was still falling around them and for a split second he imagined what it might be like to kiss him, right there. But Mrs. Brennan might be looking out the window or Mr. Harrington, or Miss Sylvester. Anyone of their neighbors could have looked out the window at that very moment.

Not to mention who knows how Blaine might react to such a thing.

“Kurt?” Blaine’s voice was lightly panicked and Kurt shook his head to clear his thoughts just as a snow plow came by and sprayed them.

“Why didn’t you drag me away?” Kurt asked, his voice nearly shrieking.

“I don’t know! I thought you would see it.” Blaine knew he couldn’t admit that for a moment he  was sort of lost in Kurt’s eyes, that it was only because he could actually see the plow coming down the street that he was even aware of it a moment before Kurt got splashed.

“Well, I guess we should go in and warm up,” Kurt said, walking up the driveway to the back gate, knowing they had to go in through the kitchen. His mom would have killed them if they messed up the living room rug.

“It’s the liquor,” Blaine said tripping a little as they walked up Kurt’s back steps. “It’s dulling our senses.”

“Maybe we should have more?” Kurt asked, a devilish look in his eye.

Blaine smiled and nodded. It sounded like a phenomenal idea to him.

They entered the back door and stood in the kitchen, frozen for a moment. All Blaine could think about was the curve of Kurt’s lips, while all Kurt could think about was touching Blaine’s face.

Blaine finally shook himself out of his stupor and began to shed his hat and mittens, his overcoat and boots. Kurt again tried to stop his thoughts before they even started. They’d been best friends for so long. He certainly couldn’t jeopardize their friendship in any way.

Kurt had heard that feeling this way about another boy was perverse and wrong, but the way he felt about Blaine didn’t ever feel wrong. It felt more right than when he spent time with girls, like Quinn, and he was almost as close to Quinn as he was to Blaine. And being with Quinn didn’t feel nearly as good as being with Blaine. So it wasn’t friendship he was feeling, it must have been more.

“Your hair is ridiculous,” Kurt said, giggling a little uncontrollably, giddy at being alone and thawing out from their morning spend outdoors. And something else felt like it was thawing between them, but it had to be the liquor, just like Blaine said.

“I know,” Blaine agreed, looking slightly embarrassed and rolling his eyes up in an attempt to see it. He could almost make out the fine tips that stood on end. “It’s the static in the air. I didn’t bother to Brylcreem it into submission this morning.”

“It’s ridiculous, but I kind of like it,” Kurt admitted sheepishly, but only once his back was turned from Blaine, going through the fridge to get the milk to make them more hot chocolate.

“Thanks,” Blaine said softly.

Kurt looked over his shoulder as he finished pouring milk into the saucepan. “You should go light a fire. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Blaine smiled. It felt weird, he couldn’t figure out why it felt so weird today with Kurt, like they were little kids playing house. But he liked it. His whole body was still warm from Mrs. Brennan’s Irish hot chocolate and he was quite frankly looking forward to holding onto that feeling.

The phone rang then, destroying the moment.

Kurt spoke to his mom while he stirred the saucepan of milk and Blaine did his best to start a fire in the fireplace in the living room. He and Kurt had spent a lot of time splitting logs during the fall for just this moment.

Kurt came in carrying two mugs and a bottle of peppermint schnapps under his arm.

“I figured I’d let you choose how much to put in yourself,” Kurt said.

Blaine stood and Kurt noticed he’d taken off the jeans he’d been wearing to shovel snow. Now he only had on his long thermal underwear. It wasn’t exactly revealing, not like he was wearing only shorts, but somehow it felt an extra special kind of intimate.

They settled in on the floor of Kurt’s living room, drinking their hot chocolate and peppermint schnapps. Kurt flipped on the radio and they warmed themselves by the fire. He found himself moving closer to Blaine, which wasn’t out of the ordinary. They could be very affectionate with each other, but today it felt different.

“What did your mom say?” Blaine asked.

“She thinks she might stay up there tonight, as long as I don’t mind. It took hours longer than usual to get there and she’s not sure she wants to come back after dark.”

Blaine nodded mutely, pulling his knees up under his chin, the schnapps almost too warm in his gut now, and he felt words growing in throat, as though the warmer he got, the less room there was for words.

“I love this song,” Blaine said when _You Send Me_  by Sam Cooke came on the radio.

Kurt nodded and decided to ask the question that he couldn’t get out of his head. “Have you ever kissed someone?” Kurt asked.

Blaine stared at the fire. “Don’t you think you’d know if I kissed somebody?” He didn’t mean for his voice to sound so harsh, but his emotions were playing tricks on him.

“I don’t know,” Kurt said. “You could have a secret life, something you don’t talk about. You could have a wife and kids in Des Moines for all I know.”

Blaine laughed a little nervously at Kurt’s joke.

“I never have either. I’ve never kissed anyone. For the record,” Kurt added.

Kurt was unsure suddenly whether he should have brought this topic up, but he was seemingly goaded on by their aloneness and the snow outside and the fact that the alcohol seemed to be dulling his inhibitions so thoroughly.

Blaine inched his body towards Kurt’s, who looked over at him, firelight dancing in his pale eyes. Their shoulders were touching, but their shoulders touched all the time. This shouldn’t feel so new. It shouldn’t feel so right.

Kurt felt like crying but he couldn’t figure out why. He looked at the ground, at the carpet beneath them with its worn paisley print. Blaine was close, Kurt heard his breath before he felt him or saw him. And then he fit their lips together, just right.

Kurt’s eyes fluttered close. Neither of them knew what they were doing, they didn’t know what to do once their lips were actually touching, so they stayed like that for a moment, both hoping that instinct might take over. And it did, a little, Blaine parted his lips a bit and Kurt tipped his face.

But then Blaine pulled away so fast that for a moment Kurt’s face hung in the air, eyes closed, lips still parted, seeking Blaine’s touch.

“Why…” Kurt began when he opened his eyes.

Blaine had moved away, backed up against the couch, his hand over his mouth like something terrible had just happened. But the kiss wasn’t terrible. If Kurt could think of what the opposite of terrible was, that’s what he would call it. He was a little surprised by how much he liked kissing Blaine, but it was a good surprised. It was something wonderful, something perfect and new. Splendid and tangible, and like nothing he ever expected a kiss to be. And he immediately yearned for more.

“Are…” Blaine squeaked out, barely able to look at Kurt. He wasn’t sure what the rest of that sentence would have been so he held his tongue.

“I’m gonna go make us sandwiches,” Kurt said, much louder than he meant to, standing up and swaying a little, his hands on his hips. “Is grilled cheese okay?”

Blaine nodded tersely, afraid to look at his friend.

That was quite the … indiscretion, Blaine thought. But Kurt wasn’t kicking him out of the house, or calling the police on him, he was making them sandwiches and warming up some tomato soup, so hopefully Blaine would at least have a chance to apologize. Unless Kurt was going to poison Blaine’s portion.

Blaine wished his brain would work faster. The second cup of hot chocolate had apparently been a mistake. It must be the liquor, it was making him crazy. He decided he was going to lead a new wave of prohibition, alcohol should be outlawed if it was the type of stuff that makes you kiss your best friend.

Your male best friend.

They ate lunch in uncomfortable silence, then Blaine excused himself and went home. He entered his cold, quiet house and quickly shed his coat and boots. He padded up to the bathroom in his socks. He stripped and stared at himself in the mirror, trying to be angry, trying to berate himself for kissing Kurt. It had been so stupid to kiss Kurt, he couldn’t even begin to fathom what he was thinking. He took a hot bath, a very hot bath, trying to wash away the whole weird morning.

He laid down in his bed and shut his eyes, just trying to breathe. But the moment repeated over and over again behind his closed lids. He opened his eyes and tried to think of something else, anything else. He finally fell into a fitful sleep for a few hours and only woke up when his mom called to him that evening.

He went downstairs, shoulders hunched, still feeling a pit of guilt in his stomach. When his mom saw him kissed his cheek. “Were you napping all afternoon?”

He nodded and rubbed his eyes.

“Have a nice day?” she asked, grinning, her red lipstick still somehow perfect.

“Yeah,” he said.

She looked at him seriously and then touched his forehead as if to check for a fever.

“I’m fine, Ma,” he said, inching away and leaning his hip on the kitchen counter.

“Betty called me at the hospital to say she’s staying at her mom’s upstate overnight. Why don’t you fetch Kurt and have him come for dinner?”

His heart skipped a beat at the suggestion. He felt caught.

He certainly couldn’t explain to his mother what had happened to him that day, what had happened to them. He paused for a moment, knowing he didn’t really have a choice. Then he slipped on his boots and his overcoat and walked quickly over to Kurt’s. He cursed the short walk because it didn’t give him anytime to formulate a speech. He paused again and then rang the bell, a formality he never usually bothered with, but felt necessary after that afternoon.

Kurt swung the door open, his arms crossed against the cold, but also possibly because Blaine had so violated him earlier that he felt the need to protectively hug himself now. Blaine hoped not, but he obviously didn’t know for certain.

“Your mom called my mom,” were the only words Blaine got out before Kurt pulled him inside.

“You kissed me,” Kurt said, his hair disheveled like he had also been napping all afternoon. Blaine wished they could have napped together. That would have been nice.

“Yeah,” Blaine said, rubbing the back of his neck. “About that.”

“You kissed me,” Kurt repeated.

“Do you hate me now?” Blaine asked, squeezing his eyes shut, better to find out the truth now, like ripping off a bandaid.

“No,” Kurt said.

“No?” Blaine asked, opening one eye to look at Kurt. He wished Kurt would say more, but this exchange was going better than Blaine could have hoped.

“No, you dufus, I don’t hate you,” Kurt said, laughing. Kurt was laughing at him. This was an unexpected turn of events. Laughing was a positive reaction. Unless he was laughing at the way Blaine kissed.

“Why are you laughing at me?”

“Because you’re standing in my front hallway with one eye open and acting like a dufus,” Kurt said matter of factly.

Blaine opened both eyes now. “Do you want to not be friends with me anymore?”

“Of course I still want to be friends with you.”

Blaine smiled. “So you want to come for supper?”

“Of course.”

While Kurt got his boots and coat together, Blaine babbled.

“I don’t really know what came over me, it had to be the alcohol. I really can’t believe I did that to you, I didn’t mean to, I guess I wanted to try it out and after you said you’d never kissed anybody and I never kissed anybody and we’re both, you know, bodies. It seemed like a good idea, but my brain was all warm and mushy and I am never drinking again!” He finished with a flourish, swing his arms in the air.

Kurt stood up. “Your brain is always mushy.”

“I am so sorry, Kurt.”

“For what?” Kurt asked.

“For my… indiscretion.”

“Blaine,” Kurt said, moving to stand in front of his friend, putting his hands on Blaine’s arms. “I liked it.”

“You did?” Blaine was awestruck.

“I did,” Kurt said, squeezing Blaine’s shoulders.

“You’re not going to tell anyone?” Blaine asked, shrinking away a bit.

“No, of course not!” Kurt said. “It’ll be our secret.”

“Thanks, Kurt,” Blaine said, obviously relieved.

“It will be our secret, perfect indiscretion,” Kurt said with a raise of his eyebrow.

“You think it was perfect?”

“As first kisses, go, yes. The firelight, the soft music on the radio, the fact that you immediately didn’t try to stick your tongue down my throat which is apparently how most guys kiss from what I can gather.”

Blaine blushed again and swallowed. “I thought it was a good first kiss too.”

And with that they walked over to Blaine’s house where his mom fed them chicken and baked potatoes and all was right with the world.

 


	2. You've Lost That Lovin' Feelin' (May, 1966)

“You’re really going through with this?” Kurt asked as he sat next to Blaine on the subway. They were on their way to Blaine’s apartment where they were meeting up with other friends for Blaine’s bachelor party. They’d been out getting final fittings on their tuxedos for Blaine and Kitty’s wedding that was looming large in both their minds.

“Have a bachelor party? Of course,” Blaine said, his smile wide and obviously pleased with himself.

“Stop being obtuse,” Kurt muttered.

“What?” Blaine asked, putting a tentative hand on Kurt’s knee. Kurt stared at it for a moment before Blaine removed it, realizing they were in public and not wanting his gesture misconstrued.

“You know perfectly well. How could you pull Kitty into this?” Kurt asked.

“You sound like Quinn,” Blaine said, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms, turning slightly away from Kurt.

“She’s right,” Kurt spat out.

Blaine sighed. “I don’t exactly have a ton of options Kurt. And I like Kitty.”

“Do you really?” Kurt asked, squinting his eyes dubiously.

“Of course. I… I love her even,” Blaine said tipping his chin up. "How many time do we have to go over this?"

“Until I believe it.”

“Don’t say it like that,” Blaine said. “I do love her. And what am I supposed to do, live forever as the third wheel to you and Quinn? It’s weird, Kurt. People are starting to notice that it’s weird.”

“It doesn’t matter, Quinn and I don’t think it’s weird.”

“Maybe I’m lonely,” Blaine said after being quiet for a few minutes. He looked into Kurt’s eyes. “Maybe it’s worth trying. Maybe I could love someone else.”

“I love how dramatic you get sometimes,” Kurt said, a smile danced in his eyes.

Blaine made a face. “Really? You’re making fun of me?”

“Always,” Kurt said, standing as the train pulled into the station. 

“I’m serious here, Kurt,” Blaine said, dropping his voice even lower when he noticed a woman eyeing them over her magazine. “I need to do something else with my life. I need to find someone else besides you.”

“Why?” Kurt asked. Blaine stood in front of him, his face etched with sincerity and something Kurt can’t quite describe. 

“Because it hurts sometimes,” Blaine admitted. “It hurts a lot of the time. And it’s been hurting for two years.”

“I’m sorry,” Kurt said.

“Of course you are,” Blaine responded. “And I accept that. But I can’t really go on like this. It’s ridiculous and it’s starting to feel juvenile. Sometimes I get so jealous of you and Quinn. It’s stupid.” Blaine tightened his hands into fists.

“You probably could have said something sooner.”

They were out of the train car and through the station, walking up to Blaine’s small apartment. They walked in silence for a few blocks, the sidewalks full of pedestrians making it difficult to keep up with each other at times. They paused before going into the lobby of Blaine’s apartment building. They both opened their mouths, about to say something, anything, but then a woman with a baby carriage bumped into Kurt at the same time that Blaine’s door man waved them into the building.

They arrived in Blaine’s apartment. The elevator ride had been awkward because there were too many people riding with them and too many unspoken words between them. Kurt’s last words rang loud in Blaine’s ears.

“How could I say anything?” he finally breathed out when they were alone in the empty apartment. “You’re married Kurt. You have a wife. You have a baby. And even if we both know that it’s not perfect, and even if Quinn knows about our feelings for each other, I still can’t… ask more of you than I already do.”

Kurt put his hand on Blaine’s face and Blaine turned into it, nuzzling for a moment before coming to his senses, but not quite able to move away from Kurt.

“I don’t mind,” Kurt said.

Somehow that phrase broke the spell for Blaine and he pulled back.

“I mind. And I’m getting married and I have to stop.”

“I know.”

“We have to stop this, Kurt.”

“I know,” Kurt said. “But maybe…”

Kurt didn’t get to finish that sentence because the door buzzed and several of Blaine’s friends needed to be let in. After that there was no time to talk, because drinks were poured and cigarettes lit and the bachelor party begun.

Blaine had fun that night, there was no denying it. His friends knew him well enough not to take him to a strip joint or to plan any “funny business.” Blaine was the consummate gentleman and they respected that, they never wanted to offend him. Instead they went to a nice lounge that had one of the largest selections of liquor Blaine had ever seen. He and Kurt ended up telling the story of the first time they ever got drunk together, leaving out the part with the kiss, of course.

Blaine tried to put the conversation with Kurt out of his mind, until he was too drunk to stop it from taking over his thoughts. Kurt knew they had no future, it was all too dangerous. Maybe if Kurt was single Blaine would have remained single. But he couldn’t imagine the loneliness of his days lived out waiting for Kurt to drop him a morsel of affection here and there. Waiting for Quinn to go out of town to see her mother, or for Kurt to find a reason to spend the night at Blaine’s. 

Blaine wanted someone all the time. 

And he always felt so guilty about Kurt basically cheating on Quinn with him, no matter how open their marriage was. Quinn was very accepting of them, if not a little bit confused, but there had to be a limit.

The balance of the night played out with Blaine giving Kurt sad puppy dog eyes and Kurt studiously ignoring said eyes. It was only when everyone else started breaking off from the group and Kurt had promised Sam and Artie he’d be sure that a very drunk Blaine got home safe, that they were finally alone again. Kurt didn’t want to pick up where they left off earlier, not with Blaine in this state, but he felt such a deep compassion for him that he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“You are the saddest drunk I’ve ever seen,” Kurt said in the cab.

Blaine sat in the corner on the wide back seat, practically clinging to the door opposite of Kurt, like he wanted to keep as much space between them as possible. Which, Kurt supposed, was better than the alternative of Blaine becoming too handsy in public.

Blaine scrubbed a hand across his face.

“I’m fine,” he mumbled.

Kurt helped him up to his apartment, taking the same trip they had made earlier but there was a much different feel in the air this time.

Once he’d gotten Blaine into his apartment, Blaine had immediately sprawled onto the couch, tugging off his shoes and socks, throwing them messily on the floor, and then closing his eyes. Kurt moved to the door assuming Blaine had already passed out.

“Well, I’ll go now,” Kurt said mostly to himself.

“Wait,” Blaine cried, swinging his hand in the air wildly, like he wanted for Kurt to call on him in class. Kurt was reminded of Blaine as a little boy in grammar school, always enthusiastic, always wanting to give the right answer. Adults would sometimes say he was starved for attention, but he wasn’t, he just liked to have as much attention as humanly possible. He was a glutton for attention.

“What?” Kurt asked.

Blaine moved onto his side, looking up at Kurt once more with sad puppy dog eyes. “Can you get me a glass of water?” He really didn’t want Kurt to leave yet, but he didn’t know how to make him stay. So he decided to start with this simple request and hoped for the best.

Kurt rolled his eyes but had to smile as he went to the sink and waited for the tap water to run cold. He checked and Blaine even had a few ice cubes left so he plunked them into the glass. After he handed the glass to Blaine who accepted it gratefully, Kurt went back into the kitchen and started doing the dishes. No reason for the man of the night to wake up in the morning to a sink full of glasses swimming in the dredges of scotch and sodas. 

He hummed to himself, cleaning glass after glass. How had ten men gone through so many glasses? Why did Blaine own so many glasses? 

He knew Blaine was unhappy of course, but so much of what they thought and felt went unsaid, because it wasn’t going to get them anywhere. In college they often discussed how they felt like they were born in the wrong era. But conversations like that had fallen by the wayside as they had gotten older. Maybe if they had been born a hundred years later, or fifty years in the future might have made a difference, but right now they were stuck.

Stuck like the film of sticky Coke on the bottom of this glass.

Kurt scoured harder, taking all of his frustration out on the offending spot.

He didn’t even hear Blaine come into the room, his bare feet treading lightly across the worn linoleum. 

Blaine watched the muscles in Kurt’s shoulders work at the sink, and he loved him. That’s all he knew from his drunken brain to the tips of his alcohol numbed toes. He had a moment of clarity where he wished it didn’t seem like all of their most open and honest moments were always the result of getting liquored up, but apparently it was often the impetus they needed.

He came up behind Kurt and put his hands on Kurt’s waist before leaning his chin on Kurt’s shoulder.

“You really didn’t have to do the dishes,” he said.

Kurt shrugged, feeling slightly uncomfortable. Kurt turned off the water and wiped his hand on the dish cloth before turning in Blaine’s arms.

“I thought you didn’t want to do this anymore,” Kurt said, not wanting to throw the words in Blaine’s face, but he needed to remind him before things got too far. Because Kurt really wanted things to go too far. That was half the reason he had planned this night. He knew staying in the city wouldn’t be a big deal if he was out for Blaine’s bachelor party. Because as much as Quinn knew about them, no one else in their lives did. And that always made Kurt feel like he needed a good excuse to spend time with Blaine.

Blaine sighed and pulled back. “Maybe one last indiscretion?” he said.

Kurt smiled at the word. “Only if you really want to.”

“I do,” Blaine affirmed. “Are you drunk?”

“Not really. I was too worried about our fight, and about making sure you go home safely to really enjoy myself.”

“How about I make you a drink and you calm down a bit?” Blaine said.

And just like that Kurt felt better. He relaxed into the thought of Blaine always being there for him, even once Blaine got married they would always be friends. Kurt’s marriage hadn’t changed their friendship and hopefully neither would Blaine’s.

Blaine grabbed his hand and brought him back into the living room, stumbling a little over the rug in the middle of the room and then placing Kurt on the couch that Blaine had previously occupied.

“What’ll you have?” Blaine asked, his eyes dancing.

“Gin and tonic,” Kurt said. Blaine set to work. “I honestly can’t believe you’re awake right now, you were so blitzed a half hour ago I was worried I’d have to rub your back while you were sick all night.”

“Is it weird that I kind of want to be sick all night just so you’ll rub my back?” Blaine asked, his smile crooked.

“That is weird,” Kurt said. “I’ll rub your back and you don’t have to be sick.”

Blaine handed Kurt his drink and settled next to him on the couch, sipping his water from earlier.

“I don’t want to stop with you,” Blaine said after several minutes.

“So don’t,” Kurt said.

“Yeah, cause it’s as easy as that,” Blaine answered staring into the bottom of his glass. “We put a lot of money into this wedding. Kitty’s so excited. Her parents would have my hide if I canceled it now.”

Kurt nodded. He was familiar with Kitty’s parents because of her relation to Quinn.

“Maybe I could tell her? Maybe she would understand?” Blaine offered, turning towards Kurt.

Kurt shook his head. “Her dad might find out. And I don’t think Kitty’s as open minded about these things as Quinn.”

Blaine nodded and dropped his eyes. “She’s never said anything definite, but you’re right, it probably isn’t worth the risk.”

Kurt took the last of his drink down. He’d finished it quickly and could feel it tingling already. Blaine continued staring at his hands.

Kurt leaned in, and nudged Blaine’s nose with his own, teasing him.

Blaine grinned a little, but still looked like he might cry.

“Come on, Blaine, none of that. Let’s celebrate the next part of your life.”

“Celebrate…” Blaine trailed off, shaking his head.

Kurt moved in again, just barely touching Blaine’s lips with his own before pulling back. That’s all it took, the briefest, softest touch of Kurt’s lips on his own, and Blaine couldn’t control himself even a moment longer. He stood and grabbed Kurt’s hand, guiding them into his bedroom and they fell together on Blaine’s unmade bed, Blaine on top of Kurt, his crotch already grinding on Kurt’s.

“This is why you need a wife,” Kurt said as Blaine started kissing his neck. “You need someone to keep house for you.”

“Can we maybe not talk about my future wife while we do this?” Blaine asked.

“Sure,” Kurt whispered leaning up to capture Blaine’s mouth once more.

Each indiscretion was different for them, and this one was something else altogether. There was a passion and a heat that they hadn’t ever felt before. And a growing worry that they would never have the chance to be with each other this way ever again. 

They stayed tangled in bed together most of the night, not really even sleeping, dozing off here and there, but mostly talking and enjoying each other’s company. Because if Blaine was serious about not cheating on Kitty once they were married, then Kurt was certainly going to honor his wishes, no matter how much it hurt.

But for now he would enjoy it.

Because no matter what they did, it never felt dirty, it never felt rehearsed.

It always felt like love.


	3. Everybody's Somebody's Fool (Summer, 1963)

After three long years in the dorms at Columbia, Kurt and Blaine had scraped enough money together for a tiny one bedroom apartment. Both of their mothers were concerned that it was too small for the two of them, until the boys had explained that they’d gotten used to sharing much smaller dorm rooms. Their mothers relented after that, and Kurt and Blaine moved in together.

The apartment was disheveled and in disrepair, but it was theirs and the boys were ready to take care of it. They’d spent many years fixing leaks, and patching walls at their moms’ houses, so doing things like that in their own apartment didn’t seem like that big of a deal.

But the best part was that they could lock the door, slide the deadbolt and the chain and know for a fact that no one was going to find them. Then they could push their twin beds together and just be. It felt like taking in a deep breath of fresh air after living too long on gas fumes.

They knew it couldn’t last forever, that eventually they would have to make decisions that would effect the rest of their lives. There was an unspoken rule between them when it came to the future. They were going to let it take care of itself.

But they always thought of Professor Berry. He seemed happy enough with his life choices and he and his “roommate” Leroy shared a great duplex that they had renovated in Brooklyn. No one ever bothered them. And by the transitive property, Blaine and Kurt felt like they could honestly hope for the same future.

The first night they stayed together in the apartment felt like the beginning of something special and important. Oddly enough, given their new privacy, all they did was kiss, like that was all they needed in the world. They kissed all over the apartment, in the kitchen, the living room, the bedroom. They even kissed in the bathroom in the middle of brushing their teeth.

The next day, they didn’t go out once. They kept the radio on low, and every time they heard Hey Paula, they would switch parts, sometimes Kurt was Paula and sometimes he was Paul and it all just felt so right.

After that first weekend it was easy to fall into a routine. Both of them had full time jobs. Blaine was working delivering pizza for the place downstairs, and Kurt was working for a tailor down the street, mostly doing desk work and making phone calls, but he liked it quite a bit. He wished he could convince Blaine to get a more… civilized job, although there was no denying that all the free pizza was a good thing. They really didn’t have a lot of money.

But they had each other, and more importantly, they had time and privacy, two things that had been grossly limited to them for years.

Sunday mornings became their favorite. Even though their mothers would often nag them to go back to Queens and go to church, more often than not they would find a good excuse to stay in Manhattan. And they could drink coffee and read the paper and enjoy each other uninterrupted.

One Sunday morning in late June there was a knock on their door.

Both boys leapt off the couch, feeling like they had contraband to hide, when in reality they didn’t. They had been sitting around, reading the paper and listening to the radio all morning, drinking so much coffee that they had been jittery even before the knock on the door. But now they were an extra special kind of nervous.

“Who could it be?” Blaine whispered.

“I don’t know,” Kurt whispered back, shaking his head.

“Kurt? Blaine?” a familiar voice said from the hallway.

Kurt walked swiftly across the room, checking the peephole, and then swinging open the door.

“Professor Berry?”

The man before him looked nothing like their stately professor. He was bedraggled and uncombed and there was the faintest smell of urine following him.

“Come in, professor,” Kurt said.

“I’m so sorry to barge in like this,” he said. “And not to be a broken record, but how many times do I have to tell you to call me Hiram?”

“It’s really not a problem, Hiram,” Blaine was quick to say. “Are you okay?”

“Well, uh, how do I put this delicately?” he asked, talking to himself. He rubbed his forehead. “I am up shit’s creek without a paddle.”

“Okay,” Blaine said, gesturing towards the couch.

“Thanks, but I really shouldn’t sit anywhere that can’t be thoroughly cleaned.”

Kurt gave him an odd look and then pulled one of the bar stools from the kitchen island over.

Professor Berry sat on it and the boys took spots on the couch.

“I see you’re reading the paper,” he said.

“Yeah, every Sunday,” Blaine said.

“Pretty much every day really,” Kurt added. “But always Sunday.”

“I am really sorry, but you were the only people I could think of who might be able to help,” he paused. “Can I have some water?”

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry we didn’t offer!” Blaine exclaimed. “I’ll get some.”

He came back as quickly as possible and then Hiram launched into his story.

“I was at one of the ... bars last night, I don’t even know which one. I ended up there with some friends,” he started. “Leroy is visiting his mother in New Jersey so I was looking for some entertainment.”

The boys nodded seriously.

“Which is part of the problem today. I’m guessing you haven’t made it to the police blotter yet,” he said gesturing towards the paper.

“We don’t usually bother with it,” Blaine said.

“Well, I’m in there. Along with a hundred other men who were rounded up and arrested last night.”

“What?” Kurt said, his mouth dropping.

Blaine flipped through the paper and found the section he wanted. The paragraph of names was huge. He knew several of the names from around campus, professors and students alike. One of the names on the list was actually the son of his boss at the pizza parlor. Blaine frowned at the thought of his strict Italian boss Mr. Castini learning about his son’s proclivity.

But they had bigger issues at hand.

“The problem is, they released us this morning after keeping us locked up overnight, but it seems as though my money was, ah, how you would say… misplaced in there.”

“Oh, Hiram,” Kurt said sympathetically.

“So I have no money to get back to Brooklyn and I couldn’t think of anyone else to see.”

“We have money. We can give you money. I have all my tips from last night. I wish we could drive you back, you’ve had a hard enough weekend as it is, but we don’t have car,” Blaine babbled nervously. He wanted to help so much.

“Blaine, it’s okay,” Hiram said. “I don’t need much, just subway fare.”

“We’ll give you enough for a cab,” Kurt offered.

“You really don’t have to. I would appreciate using your bathroom though.”

“Of course,” Kurt said. He showed the professor the small room off their bedroom and then returned to the couch.

“That’s so scary,” Blaine said.

“It is.”

“I don’t know that I’m ever going to be able to go to one of those bars again,” Blaine said. They hadn’t gone very often, mostly because school took up a lot of time and they were trying to keep their preferences a secret. But now Blaine couldn’t imagine ever going again. His thoughts went back to Mr. Castini finding out about his son’s secret life by reading his name in the police blotter. And then he thought of his mother learning the same way and he shuddered.

“I have to admit that I feel the same way at the moment,” Kurt said, looking stricken. “I can’t imagine people finding out about us that way.”

Blaine grimaced and before he said anything else he heard the bathroom door open.

When Hiram rejoined them in the living, Kurt was going through their emergency cash. “Here’s ten dollars. Please take a taxi.”

Hiram smiled.

“And please let us make some breakfast for you?”

“I am pretty hungry,” Hiram said.

The boys scrambled him eggs and toasted some bread while Hiram told them the whole story.

“I kept hearing that there had been a lot of raids lately, but I was with a guy who usually knows where the next raid is going to be. He gets his information from his neighbor who’s a cop. Who obviously doesn’t know the guy is going to these clubs,” Hiram explained.

Blaine leaned on the counter and listened intently as he sipped his coffee. Kurt couldn’t seem to concentrate though, he could feel panic creeping up his neck, making his ears ring.

“We heard they would come with paddy wagons, not just taking people away in cars, but actual paddy wagons, cuffing everyone they saw. The guys last night were rough. I felt pretty lucky I didn’t get hurt, but it was…” he paused shaking his head. “It was awful.”

“What about your friends?” Blaine asked. “Are they okay?”

“Yeah, I think so. I didn’t want to stop by any of their homes in case we were being watched. I just feel so conspicuous. And a lot of them are from the outer boroughs anyway. At least my pal Gil could take the ferry home for free.”

Kurt hummed, still barely able to hear.

“I better go,” Hiram said as he finished the last of his coffee. “I’ll pay you back.”

They walked him to the door.

“Thank you,” he said again as he shook their hands, his voice emotional. “I’m not sure if I’ll see you around campus much anymore, but I will get the money back to you.”

“It’s really no problem,” Blaine said, patting his back, trying to ignore the part about Hiram losing his job.

After he left, the boys were quiet, going about their own tasks, feeling distant from each other, knowing that their fate could be much like their favorite professor’s.

Blaine went out in the afternoon to pick up some fresh vegetables for a salad. Halfway to the store he realized he forgot the list, so he ran back home. When he walked into the apartment, he immediately found the list right on the counter where he left it. And then he realized that the apartment was silent aside from Kurt’s small sobs.

“Kurt?” Blaine said quietly as he stepped into the bedroom.

Kurt sat up, wiping at his eyes. “I thought you were at the store.”

“I realized I forgot the list,” Blaine said, showing him the paper.

Kurt chuckled wetly.

“Are you okay?”

“No,” he said sadly.

“Because of Professor Berry?”

Kurt nodded and gestured for Blaine to move closer, putting his arms out like a child that needed to be held. So Blaine held him, the food store forgotten for hours. Kurt cried until Blaine was sure there weren’t any tears left in him. And then Kurt started crying Blaine’s tears, that was the only possible explanation for the buckets that rained forth from his eyes.

Blaine did the only thing he could think to do, cuddle him close, spooning him on the twin bed and holding him until the quiet sobs stopped racking his body.

And then Kurt rolled over in his arms and said, “I think I need a tissue.”

“Or eighty,” Blaine said with a relieved smile as he got up to get the box from the bathroom.

Kurt took one and mopped up his face, blowing his nose over and over.

“I’m gonna get you some water,” Blaine said.

Kurt washed his face in the bathroom and then met Blaine back outside in the living room, drawing him over to the couch.

“I’m sorry I was so upset,” he said.

“Don’t be sorry,” Blaine said, taking his hand.

“Is the door locked?” Kurt asked, tensing up.

Blaine got up and locked it up as tight as usual.

Then Kurt took both of Blaine’s hands in his. “I’m not brave enough for this,” he said.

Blaine looked at him, confused. “For what?”

“For this,” Kurt said, gesturing between them. “For that,” he added pointing out the window. “For jail!” he exclaimed throwing his hands in the air.

“Oh.” Blaine wasn’t either, but he kept his mouth shut, knowing that what Kurt needed was to be listened to. They could commiserate later, but for now Kurt should talk.

“Yeah, oh,” Kurt said, sniffling again. “And it makes me feel terrible. I should be brave but all I can think about is our friends finding out. And our moms…”

“Our moms will love us no matter what,” Blaine said, trying to make both Kurt and himself believe it was true.

“I like to imagine that they would be, but we don’t know that Blaine. With what the church says, and everything.”

Blaine nodded.

“And we’re so young. I can’t imagine getting… marked so young. Having our name in the paper for future employers, or even our current ones.”

“What should we do?” Blaine asked, suddenly fearful that Kurt was going to say that they shouldn’t live together anymore. He couldn’t imagine that, they were just getting comfortable.

“We have to be more careful,” Kurt said with a shrug.

“More careful?” Blaine asked. “Is that even possible?”

“Sure.”

“Kurt, you made me deadbolt and chain the door just to hold your hand.”

“I don’t know what else to do. I can’t live with this ache of worry in my chest.”

Blaine scratched his head. “Alright, whatever you want.” He wasn’t even really sure what he was giving in to. Aside from a few meetings of the Mattachine Society they’d been to and their minor forays to clubs that Hiram had suggested, they lived like any other college students. As long as you looked past the fact that they pushed their beds together every night.

“Thank you, Blaine,” Kurt said. And then he did something new, he lifted Blaine’s hand to his mouth and kissed it, like a prince would to a princess in a fairytale. And Blaine realized for the millionth time that he would pretty do whatever Kurt asked him to, no matter what.


	4. Silent Night (Christmas, 1955)

Kurt and Blaine were both participating in the school’s Christmas pageant. As eighth graders they knew they needed to be role models for the younger children. Or at least that was what everyone kept telling them.

Kurt had gotten a solo, Silent Night, while Blaine was happy to be part of the chorus for all of the background songs, at least this year. Usually he would have been right up there with Kurt, competing for solo parts. But this year Blaine’s voice was changing.

His voice cracked almost every time he opened his mouth lately. It felt like it was much worse than the other boys, but that probably wasn’t true. He hoped it would stop soon. His mom had said it would, but it had been going on for almost a month already. It made speaking up in class particularly humiliating. Which was too bad because he really liked speaking in class because he almost always knew the right answer.

Kurt had even noticed the change in him.

“You’re quiet lately,” Kurt said one day while they were working on homework. It was a week before Christmas and they were sitting in Kurt’s living room in front of the tree. Blaine kept getting distracted by the ornaments, looking at the details of each one, and not accomplishing any of his math problems.

Blaine shrugged.

“Cause your voice is changing?” Kurt asked. He didn’t want to embarrass his friend, but he also wanted to make sure that Blaine wasn’t mad at him.

“Yeah,” Blaine squeaked, blushing.

“I wish mine would change.”

“No you don’t, this is horrible,” Blaine said. He could swear it sounded like three different people said those words, like a man and a little boy and Blaine were speaking all at once.

“I don’t know, it’s better than not changing at all. What if my voice stays like this forever?”

“It won’t,” Blaine said, working hard to keep his voice in check. But it didn’t even sound like his voice anymore. “I don’t think it’s possible.”

They continued working and Blaine stayed for dinner where they had beef stew and homemade rolls and it was the most delicious thing ever. After Blaine had gone home, Kurt helped his mom wash and dry the dishes.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” she asked.

“I dunno,” Kurt said. He wasn’t normally the kind of boy who shied away from talking to his mom about things, but he really wished his dad was around for this discussion. At least a dad could talk about his own experiences.

“Well, you know you can talk to me.”

“I know.”

“Can I try to guess?” she asked, glancing over at him.

Kurt laughed.

“Are you fighting with Blaine?”

“No!” Kurt was quick to say. “Nothing like that.”

“Well, that’s good.”

“Is it about a girl?”

Kurt shook his head. “It’s my voice,” he admitted.

“You have a lovely voice,” his mom said.

“I have a girl’s voice,” Kurt said, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, is that what this is about. Are you jealous that Blaine is … maturing faster than you?”

“Believe it or not, Mom, this isn’t really about Blaine,” Kurt said with a huff.

“I’m sorry,” she said, holding up her dish soaped hands in surrender. “I guess I just assumed since he was here this afternoon that it had something to do with him. Before he came over you were fine, but since he left you’ve been sulky and moody. I jumped to conclusions.”

“I mean, sure it would be easier if our voices changed at the same time, but mostly I just want my voice to change so I can stop getting soprano parts in the Christmas shows at school. And imagine next year, when I’m in high school, still singing with girls? It’s humiliating.” He threw himself into a kitchen chair and couldn’t meet his mother’s eye.

She toweled off her hands and took the seat across from him.

“For starters,” she said. “There’s nothing to be ashamed about. I know it feels like there is, but there isn’t. Your body is just different than other people’s.”

Kurt was about to protest, to make her stop because his embarrassment grew with each word his mother spoke, but then his mother put her finger to his lips and he was caught off guard.

“If there was one thing I could go back and tell myself as a teenager it would be ‘stop comparing yourself to other people.’”

She pulled her finger away from his mouth. “Now you may speak.”

“It’s hard not to compare yourself.”

“It is,” she agreed. “I still do it sometimes. I’ll look at a woman at the store wearing a skirt I could never afford and wish for something different. But my life might not be better just because it’s different. I would still have obstacles, but maybe those obstacles would be harder to bear.”

Kurt made a face. “Or maybe they wouldn’t be. You can’t know this. You can’t act like the known is better than the unknown.”

She sat back in her chair and folded her arms and crossed her legs. “Alright Mr. Smarty-pants. Then what do you think?”

“I think adults make things up to make kids feel better. And telling me that life might not be better if it was different is basically the teenage equivalent getting me to believe in Santa Claus.”

His mom laughed at that.

Kurt huffed and crossed his arms.

“You’re so moody lately.”

“Stop making fun of me!” he exclaimed.

“Oh, Kurt. I am not making fun of you. I am trying to make sense of you.”

“I just want to be normal.”

“And right now normal is having a changing voice.”

“Exactly,” he said. “I keep thinking about how I’ll have to go through it all by myself when it happens and that will make me stand out even more. It would be better to get it over with when all the other boys are dealing with it.”

“That’s fair,” his mom said. “But you’ve never been afraid of being different. I’d like to point out the fact that you basically wore a coonskin cap for seven years, long after everyone else had stopped wearing them.”

He chuckled at the memory. He knew his mom was right. He wasn’t afraid of being different, but that didn’t mean he aspired to be different. He thought about it all evening and as he was falling asleep and all the next day. He thought about it while practicing his solo and going to school and eating dinner. The idea would flicker into his head on a daily basis for the next week. 

And then the day of the pageant dawned. Kurt got out of bed feeling a little too warm. It was never warm in the morning before the house warmed up, but he ignored it. And his head felt a little too heavy, and his throat felt a little too raw. But that’s to be expected with all the rehearsing he’s been doing lately, he told himself in the mirror.

Or he tried to tell himself that in the mirror, but no words came out when he opened his mouth.

He ran downstairs, trying to call for his mom, but his voice was barely a ragged whisper. He found her in the basement, hanging clothes on the line down there to dry.

“MOM,” he gasped.

“What Kurt?” she asked, standing up, looking worried. “Are you okay?”

“I think my voice is changing!” It was almost impossible to get the words out of his mouth, everything felt tight in his throat, but he imagined that his voice changing would hurt, so he wasn’t exactly surprised.

“Oh, Kurt, honey. Come here,” she said, pulling him towards the bare bulb. “Open wide.”

Kurt could barely open his mouth because of the smile on his face.

“Honey, sit on this stool, you’re getting too tall for me,” she said with a grin.

As soon as she looked into his mouth, all she could see was his red, swollen throat. She touched his glands, and they were swollen, too.

She frowned down at her son.

“What?’ he croaked.

“I’m sorry Kurt. Your voice isn’t changing, it looks like you have a bad sore throat.”

Kurt stood up quickly then, once again feeling dizzy and too warm. His mom put a hand on his forehead.

“You are burning up,” she said. “We have to get you back to bed and I’ll call for the doctor.”

“No,” Kurt said, wincing. “The pageant, the solo.”

His mom couldn’t even understand what he was saying at that point. “I’ll call Clara and have her send Blaine along to school without you.”

She ushered Kurt up the stairs. He didn’t want to admit it, and in a way he couldn’t because his voice really seemed to have stopped working, but he was feeling worse by the second. His mom helped him back up to bed and tucked him under the covers.

“I’ll bring you some hot tea with lemon and honey,” she said, brushing his hair off his forehead. She went back downstairs and Kurt dozed off a bit. He knew he must have been quite ill if he barely even cared about what might happen with the pageant.

He woke up a little while later when his mom brought him some tea. He sat up and drank it, feeling it soothe his throat. And then he went back to sleep.

The doctor came sometime later that morning, Kurt’s mom fluttering around nervously.

“I’m sorry to drag you out here,” she said. “But I was worried it might be something serious, like tonsillitis.”

“Not a problem,” the old man said, touching Kurt’s glands and looking into his throat with a pen light. He tisked. 

He slipped a thermometer in Kurt’s mouth.

“You have quite the sore throat don’t you?” he asked. 

Kurt tried not to roll his eyes. Why did doctors always ask questions when they were taking your temperature? But he nodded.

“It doesn’t look like tonsillitis, but if it continues through to Monday, call me again. But right now it just seems like a bad cold combined with an overworked throat,” the doctor said to his mom. He plucked the thermometer out. “101.8, nothing to be too concerned about. But you’re not to speak at all for the next two days. And I want you to stay in bed as much as possible.”

Kurt nodded, frowning.

“Give him something for the fever,” he said turning back to Kurt’s mom. “And plenty of fluids. Soup is a good choice, the salt helps. Gargle with salt water too. If you have any questions call my office.”

And with that he was gone and Kurt was left to pick the lint off of his sheets.

He was very sad about missing out on his solo. He wondered idly if they would leave the slot empty or give it to someone else. Maybe one of the girls could take it.

He slept on and off for the rest of the day, his mother bringing him a bell to ring if he needed anything and a pad of paper to write on. She also made sure he had plenty to drink and followed all of the doctors recommendations to a tee. At least she let him take a bath that night and didn’t force him to let her stay in the bathroom, though she did insist on running the water for him.

When he got back in bed he lamented the fact that he couldn’t go to the pageant, but even more than that he missed Blaine. They saw each other pretty much everyday and any day without Blaine always felt a little wrong to him. 

Kurt woke up the next day, a Saturday, after a fitful sleep where his fever broke and his throat felt terrible. But even though his sleep was interrupted, he woke up feeling much better. He went into the bathroom and washed his face and brushed his teeth and put on his most comfortable clothes. Then he sat on his bed and wrote a note for his mom.

_“I promise I won’t speak and I’ll stay on the couch, but please don’t make me spend another minute in bed and this way I can watch TV and at least enjoy the Christmas tree. It is Christmas Eve after all.”_

He walked downstairs and before she could even protest he handed her the note.

She touched his forehead. “You don’t have a fever.” 

Then she made him sit down to look into his mouth. “And your throat looks much better.”

He looked at her pleadingly and she smiled. “Fine, stay on the couch, but if your fever comes back I’m sending you right to bed.”

He smiled and hugged her wildly, and then very calmly walked over to the couch where he arranged the pillows and covered himself with a throw blanket.

Then she brought him some tea and toast and they left the TV on in the background while Kurt flipped through a comic book.

Just before noon the back door opened and closed. 

“Hello, Blaine,” he heard his mom say in the kitchen.

“Hi Mrs. Hummel. I know Kurt’s sick, but can I see him? I want to tell him about the pageant.”

Kurt had already leapt off the couch and run into the kitchen. Blaine saw him and his eyes lit up. Kurt was so happy to see Blaine, but still unable to speak, that he threw himself into his arms for a hug, the only option he could think of. The boys squeezed each other in a back breaking embrace before parting.

“Kurt is still sick,” his mother said pointedly. “And he’s not supposed to be up from the couch and he’s not allowed to talk.”

Blaine nodded seriously and Kurt saluted sarcastically.

She gave Kurt a withering look and ushered the boys into the living room. Blaine took a seat in arm chair and Kurt settled back onto the couch.

“Would you like some cocoa Blaine?”

“Sure, thanks,” he said. 

Kurt sat up straight looking hopeful. “It’s tea with lemon and honey for you,” his mom said pointing at him.

Kurt pouted and sighed dramatically, falling back on the pillows with a hand to his head.

“None of that.”

“Blaine is your mom around? Do you have plans tonight?”

“No, just planning to stay home.”

“I’ll give her a call, maybe we should have supper together. I was going to make some chicken noodle soup.”

“That sounds a lot better than whatever my mom was making,” Blaine said. “Don’t tell her I said that!”

Kurt’s mom winked at him. “It’ll be our little secret.”

It was then that Kurt noticed Blaine had a bag with him. He nodded at it and raised his eyebrows expectantly.

“I know we don’t usually get each other Christmas presents. And these aren’t presents really, they’re Christmas tokens,” Blaine explained.

Kurt nodded and smiled. He liked the sound of that, particularly since he didn’t have anything for Blaine. He’d be sure to return the sentiment by paying for him at the movies next time or something.

First Blaine pulled out a very familiar looking stuffed animal.

Kurt’s eyes lit up.

“I’m sorry I’ve kept Beary for so long, but I’d become sort of attached to him. I figured you could use him more than I could at this point.”

Kurt took the bear and brought it up to his face where he inhaled deeply and caught the smell of Blaine, warm and clean and Ivory soap.

 _“Thanks,”_ Kurt jotted down on his notepad. _“I forgot you had him.”_

“I forgot I had him, too,” Blaine admitted after reading the note. “And then I brought you The Lord of the Rings books.”

Kurt took them and stared at the covers. He was intrigued. 

_“I didn’t know you read them,”_ he wrote.

“Yeah, I didn’t tell you? I liked them a lot. I guess I wasn’t sure if you would like them, but they’re the only books I own that I know you haven’t read yet,” Blaine said. “I was going to bring you other stuff, but they should keep you busy for a while.”

A realization hit Kurt. _“Aren’t you going to tell me what happened last night?”_ he scribbled.

Blaine moved over to couch and sat at the opposite end, taking the notepad and scribbling a long reply.

_“When I got to school I told Mrs. Garrett that you weren’t coming and she got all nutty like she does, worrying about how to fill the space. And I said that I would sing the song. She was surprised but she said that would be fine. I think she was more nervous than I was about my voice cracking. But I wanted to do it for you and for the pageant and for the audience. So I practiced all day controlling the notes and I did a really good job I think. My voice only cracked once! Maybe I’m finally done with this stupid stuff.”_

He handed Kurt the notepad.

_“1. You know you didn’t have to write that all down. 2. I’m glad you were the one who took my place. 3. I’m extra extra glad that your voice didn’t crack and you didn’t humiliate yourself in front of everyone.”_

Blaine laughed when he read what Kurt wrote.

“I know I lucked out. Do you feel better now? I was worried about you,” Blaine wrote back.

Kurt nodded, about to speak and then caught himself. _“I feel a lot better but the doctor said I couldn’t talk until tomorrow and my mom is all over me to be quiet. Hence the notepad.”_

The boys stayed on the couch together for the rest of the afternoon, giggling and passing notes back and forth. Blaine’s mom came over for dinner and they had a picnic in the living room by the tree, even though it was kind of hard not eating soup at the table. 

Both boys would agree for many years to come that it was one of the best Christmas Eves ever.


	5. It's My Party (And I'll cry if I want to), January 1964

Quinn Fabray was getting married.

When she told Kurt about her pregnancy less than a month ago, she’d barely had time to process everything that was happening. Before she knew it Kurt was asking her to marry him. She was shocked. A long time ago she’d noticed the way Kurt and Blaine looked at each other, and the way they acted when they were together, the deep affection they shared. She didn’t have a name for it as a child or teenager, but as they got older it became more apparent.

She didn’t think anyone else really suspected anything, but when they had moved in with each other, she sort of had decided they were an item. Whatever that meant for two men to be an “item” she still wasn’t sure.

Kurt had always been a good friend to her though. She had told him the whole sob story sitting next to the slowly wilting Christmas tree. Kurt had stopped by to return a tupperware container that her mother had left at Kurt’s after the neighborhood Christmas cookie exchange. He had been able to tell she was crying. Luckily her parents were away for the night, visiting friends in Philadelphia, so she had the time and the freedom to talk about the whole sordid tale.

She had explained that the boy she was in love with was a good man and he treated her right, even if he owned a motorcycle and greased back his hair, but she could never marry him because he was Jewish. She didn’t even want to tell him about the baby, because she’d known he would want to be with her. She had been thinking about getting rid of it, having it “taken care of.” She’d heard rumblings around college that there were doctors who would do that sort of thing.

Kurt had told her he would take care of her instead, that they could get married. And that had been that. She had let all the decisions be made for her because she just couldn’t deal.

For months she’d been lying to her parents. Every time she went out with Noah Puckerman she would tell them she was with Kurt. So when they announced their engagement her parents weren’t particularly surprised. Kurt’s mom was a bit shocked, but seemed happy enough.

Blaine was a whole other story that Quinn did her best not to think about. She knew she couldn’t ignore him forever, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to think too hard about him yet. 

Because for now everything would be fine. Even if this whole marriage would end up being a mistake, at least she’d be safe for now. At least the baby would be born and they’d both have some place to go home to. She wouldn’t put it past her parents to kick her out if they knew she had gotten herself in trouble.

Her parents did the best they could when Quinn said she wanted to be married in just a month. Her mother tried to talk her out of it, saying they should have a longer engagement, but Quinn had put her foot down.

She wanted to get married right away, and there was no reason to wait.

Here she was, in the middle of January, nearly two months pregnant with all day morning sickness, standing in her sham of a white dress.

It was a small ceremony, in the Catholic church they’d all grown up in, on a Friday afternoon. Afterwards everyone was invited to the fire hall down the steet, where her parents had gotten a caterer to bring in dinner.

“It’s the best we could do with such short notice,” her mother had said resignedly.

Now she sat in that fire hall, in a chair decorated in white tulle feeling like a complete fake. She watched the forty or so people in attendance take the small dance floor, listening to the three piece band that Kurt had found through some friends at college. They were more than willing to take the odd time in exchange for decent money and good food.

It was Blaine she watched most closely. Blaine who looked sick to his stomach all afternoon. It was Blaine’s eye she caught when the priest had announced that Kurt could kiss his bride. It was Blaine who sat sullenly in the back corner, sipping a beer, not speaking to anyone even though people continued to spin in and out of his orbit.

Kurt’s uncle vacated the chair next to Blaine and Quinn made her way over to him. Kurt was busy taking a shot at the bar with her uncles and there was no one in the vicinity and the band was loud enough that no one would hear what she was about to say. Blaine had been studiously avoiding her since the wedding announcement, but she felt like now it was time, she couldn’t put it off any longer.

She slid into the chair next to him. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“For the blender?” he asked. “Not a problem.”

“No, for Kurt. And for the blender. But Kurt. He told me…” she trailed off. She wasn’t sure if he had told her everything, but he had told her enough to make her understand that he needed to be protected almost as much, or maybe even more, than she and the baby did. At least Quinn couldn’t be arrested for giving birth to a bastard. She patted her stomach and apologized to the baby for thinking of it as a bastard.

Blaine swallowed. “I know. He told me he told you.”

“Did he tell you about me?”

“Yes. I’m sorry. I … didn’t understand. Telling me your secret was the only way to make me understand.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s not like he and I went into this thinking it would be a normal marriage.”

Blaine nodded, his face sad.

“I’m sorry that it couldn’t be you,” she said honestly.

He smiled and Quinn could see his eyes were glassy with tears. “Me too.”

“You’ll still have a place in his life you know? I don’t think Kurt could ever give you up.”

Blaine swiped at his face with his napkin and worked hard to keep his composure. It wasn’t easy, he wasn’t expecting Quinn to be so kind to him, not kind like this, not on her wedding day. Somehow her kindness made him even more sad.

“And I’ll do my best,” she said, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. “To never come between you guys.”

“Really? Why?”

“Because there’s someone else I want to be with too,” she said simply.

“I’ll do my best to make sure that your family is never threatened. And we’ll be … discrete in our indiscretions.”

He said the last part like it was a little joke and Quinn smiled because Blaine was finally smiling a real smile.

“And now we’ll slow it down,” the singer said. The band started playing _So Much In Love_.

Blaine stood. “Would you do me the honor of dancing with me Quinn Hummel?” he asked, putting his hand out.

“You are always the consummate gentleman,” she said, taking his hand and standing.

On the dance floor, they stayed close. Blaine whispered a question in her ear.

“Did you know about Kurt and me before he told you?” he asked.

“I had my suspicions,” she said honestly.

He looked around as though he could be found out at any moment. “Do you think other people suspect?”

“I don’t think so, I don’t think anyone else observes the way I do.”

“When did you realize?” he asked.

“New Year’s Eve, back in ‘57, or was it ‘58? When you both stumbled into the kitchen looking like you had literally been rolling in the hay,” she said, chuckling. “You spent the rest of the night barely talking to anyone else. You always seemed to be sharing secrets, but that night it was like everything was taken to a new level.”

“That was a good night, I won’t lie. Not even to Kurt’s wife.”

“It was obvious you guys were having a lot of fun. The kind of fun that I don’t think I could really grasp back then,” she said with a smile.

“So, who’s the other guy?” Blaine asked. “Is it…” he nodded down at her stomach.

“It is. He’s Jewish,” she started to say.

“Oh,” Blaine breathed. “People don’t like them much either.”

“My parents would have a fit if they found out.”

“My mom would probably have a fit if she found out about Kurt and me. So really, I want to say that I appreciate what you’re doing for us. It might not seem like it, because I’m sad now, but you’re helping both of us.”

Quinn nodded, and changed the position of her hands, drawing Blaine a little closer, wishing she could think of a way to comfort him.

“Did he tell you about our professor?” Blaine asked.

“No-” Quinn said, but then she was interrupted.

“How about I dance with my wife now?” Kurt said. They turned around and he stood there next to his two oldest friends, who he was committed to in very different ways. He jingled the keys in his suit pocket. His grandmother had given him her car as a wedding gift, claiming her eyes were far too bad to drive anymore.

Quinn looked at Kurt in his dark loden green, slim cut suit, his shirt snow white against his black tie. His shoes so shiny you could see yourself in them, Quinn thought. And he belonged to someone else. But for now, he was hers at least on the surface.

She danced then with Kurt, they were putting on a good show, and that was the whole point. That’s what life was going to be like. She figured it would be easier when the baby was born, and they would have privacy at home at least. She wondered how many girls felt this sad on their wedding days. She’d like to meet them all.

After the cutting of the cake, she and Kurt took off for their honeymoon in his hand me down car. Quinn actually liked the car quite a lot. It was big and roomy with leather seats.

She lit up a cigarette and relaxed against the seat. “I had a nice conversation with Blaine.”

“Oh yeah,” Kurt said, his voice sounding tired.

“And I want to say it to you, too.”

Kurt glanced over at her, his hands gripping tightly at the wheel. He’d never driven this far in his life and the idea of leaving the city, driving across New Jersey, and into Pennsylvania left his palms sweaty. But married couples had to go on honeymoons and Quinn’s parents were footing the bill for theirs. They had booked them a three night stay at Mount Airy Lodge. Apparently they had an indoor pool. Kurt thought the brochure looked nice.

“I want you to know that I won’t get between you,” she said.

Kurt shook his head, feeling like he must have heard her wrong. 

“I won’t get between you and Blaine. As long as you can handle the husband side of this thing in public, you don’t have to worry about hurting me by being with him.”

“Really?”

“Of course.”

“I’m just a little shocked…”

“I want to be with Noah sometimes too, and I don’t know if that will happen because I can’t let our secrets get out much further. I wouldn’t trust him with your secret no matter if I would eventually trust him with mine. But if I could, someday, be with someone else, I would want you to give me the same go ahead.”

Kurt nodded, understanding that quid-pro-quo of the agreement. “I appreciate your objective view on this.”

Quinn smiled and stubbed out her cigarette. “I’m not saying that I won’t get over emotional or jealous at times, but we’ll make it work.”

They drove in silence for a while, every song that came on the radio felt sad and poignant no matter what it was. Quinn almost had to turn the radio off when _It’s My Party_ came on.

“Can I ask you a very personal question?”

“Before you do, I want to say something,” Kurt said.

Quinn nodded, surprised by his sudden firmness.

“If we’re going to make this work, we need to be honest with each other. Because if we’re lying to the whole world, we can’t also lie to each other. And I think… nothing should be off limits, no question too personal. As long as you don’t mind, I would very much like that.”

“Kurt,” she breathed, staring at him as the lights of the highway flickered across his face. “I don’t think you understand how relieved I am to hear you say that.”

“Good,” he said with a smile.

“It makes me feel like even if things between us aren’t real, they’ll at least be true. At least true enough.”

“I think things are real,” Kurt said. “Real enough.”

“Real enough,” Quinn said, rolling the phrase over and over.

“So, your question?”

“Have you ever had sex?”

“Yes.”

“With a woman?”

Kurt blushed. “No.”

“Do you want to try?”

“Quinn Fabray is propositioning me,” Kurt said, a note of wonder in his voice. “I don’t know what to say. I mean, part of me would like to try, but the other part feels like it would be cheating on Blaine, which is basically the most ridiculous thing to say to your wife of six hours.”

Quinn put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay.”

“But you know, maybe not tonight, but I wouldn’t say it’s off the table,” he said after a long time.

He put his hand on Quinn’s and that was enough invitation to slide across the wide bench seat. Kurt put his arm around her and she tucked herself close to him and they drove on. Quinn made a mental note to ask about that professor sometime. But not tonight.

Tonight she needed to concentrate on the long road ahead.


	6. Chances Are (New Year's Eve, 1958)

After the kiss and the ensuing conversation earlier that year, both boys seemed to ignore the topic feelings. They ignored it, but that didn’t mean their feelings stopped. If anything they grew like flowers in a hothouse, bathed in sunlight and pampered by a green thumb.

Blaine would sit and watch Kurt for hours, never getting tired of the way Kurt moved and spoke. Kurt was far more subtle when watching Blaine, but did it just as often. He spent a large portion of one Saturday afternoon in mid-December watching Blaine clean up the bottom of the Anderson Christmas tree. Kurt knew he should have gone out to help his friend, but it was far more interesting watching from above as Blaine took more and more layers of clothing off with each branch he sawed. 

It was only when Blaine stepped back to examine his work that he must have felt Kurt’s eyes on him because he turned around and searched each window before landing on Kurt’s. Kurt made like he was just happening by, opening up the window and calling down to his friend.

“Need help getting that inside?” he asked.

“I could certainly do it by myself,” Blaine answered with an impish grin. “But if you’re offering I accept. Because I’m going to end up having to help you in a couple days do the same task.”

Kurt harumphed loudly and then shut the window. He smiled as he raced down the stairs. He would of course be asking Blaine to help him get their Christmas tree inside, but Blaine didn’t have to act like Kurt was a weakling. 

When Kurt arrived in Blaine’s yard moments later he had to seriously fight the urge to brush away the little sweat curls that were forming at the edge of Blaine’s hairline.

“Here,” Blaine said.

“Huh?” Kurt hadn’t been paying any attention, and then noticed that Blaine was holding out a pair of work gloves towards him.

“Don’t want you get splinters on your pretty hands,” Blaine said.

“Don’t want my foot up your big rear end,” Kurt mumbled.

Blaine laughed loudly and appreciatively as they started wrestling the tree up the crumbling back steps and into the kitchen.

“Maybe next summer we should do something about these,” Kurt said, toeing at a crack in one of the stairs while Blaine tried to angle the top of the tree through the door.

“I was thinking that myself,” Blaine said, finally getting the tree just right. “We could probably patch them up and paint them.”

“Yeah,” Kurt agreed.

They kept moving through the house. Blaine was going to have to vacuum up the falling needles that were flying everywhere. He wasn’t pleased at the prospect, but he hated leaving a mess like that for his mom to clean up.

“Where’s your mom?” Kurt asked as they dropped the tree into the stand that Blaine had already set up in the living room.

“Work for another couple of hours. I wanted to surprised her with the tree.”

“Where did you get this one?” Kurt asked, stepping back to examine it now that it was upright. It wasn’t particularly symmetrical but it was very full.

“Well. I kind of. Um. Cut it down in the park?” Blaine admitted, looking down sheepishly.

“Seriously?” Kurt asked, eyes wide. “Did anyone see you?”

“No!”

“Why didn’t you go buy one from the lot down the street?”

Blaine shrugged. “Seemed more fun this way.”

“Why didn’t you ask me to help?”

“Didn’t think this was necessarily your kind of activity.”

Kurt made a shocked face and then smiled. “Come on. Pretty much any activity involving you is my kind of activity.”

Blaine blushed and rolled his eyes. Kurt was flirting with him. He chuckled for a second and thought about how if he wasn’t talking to Kurt, he would be really excited to tell Kurt about this whole exchange.

“Why are you laughing?” Kurt asked.

“You’re… flirting with me.”

“I am,” Kurt said.

“It’s fun.”

They stood there looking at each other and Blaine thought about kissing him again. The moment should have been awkward and somehow it wasn’t.

“Well,” Kurt said, stepping back.

“Thanks for the help,” Blaine said. 

“You’re welcome. But I realized that I won’t need your help getting our tree in. My mom and I are leaving to go upstate on the 20th so we decided not to bother with a tree this year.”

Blaine frowned dramatically.

“But we’ll be back on the 30th with plenty of time to get ready for the New Year’s Eve party here,” Kurt added hastily.

Blaine brightened at that.

“I would have told you sooner, but my mom just decided this morning.”

Blaine nodded. “I’ll have to give you your present sooner.”

“Yeah, me too,” Kurt said. “How about right now? I could run home and grab it?”

“Sure,” Blaine said, stuffing his hands in pockets. 

“See you in a minute,” Kurt said, rushing back through the kitchen and out the door, hopping the fence between their yards and rushing into his house. He’d been hiding the package in the back of the linen closet, though if pressed he wasn’t sure he could explain why he was keeping it there.

Blaine came down the stairs as Kurt reentered the kitchen a few minutes later and they paused, looking each other over. They moved closer and stood in front of each other, each holding their gifts like a shield.

“I’ll miss you,” Kurt said, his cheeks pink from the cold and the confession.

“It’s only 10 days,” Blaine said with a shrug. “And I’ll see you all this week at school.”

“That’s different though.”

“I know. I’ll miss you too.”

“Here,” Kurt said before they could get any further into such sad talk.

“Thanks,” Blaine said as he accepted the perfectly wrapped present and handed Kurt a package that was quite obviously a record.

Kurt shook it and made a silly face. “A new bicycle?” he asked.

“Yes. Exactly,” Blaine said, eschewing any ceremony and tearing into Kurt’s gift. It was a beautiful sweater of all different greens and browns.

“It’s all the colors of your eyes,” Kurt said, staring at his feet. “I knitted it myself.”

“Really?” Blaine asked, awed at the idea. He knew Kurt could be quite crafty, but for him to knit Blaine a sweater, well, it quite frankly took Blaine’s breath away. He hugged the sweater close and inhaled the soft wool.

“Yes,” Kurt answered.

“Thanks so much, Kurt. Although, now I feel like mine pales in comparison.”

Kurt slid his finger under the tape and pulled the wrapping free, flipping over the record to see the front. “ _Chances Are_ by Johnny Mathis,” he read.

“It reminds me of you,” Blaine told him, blushing deeply.

“ _Chances are your chances are, awfully good_ ,” Kurt sang in dulcet voice.

Blaine grinned and then snuck a quick peck to Kurt’s cheek. “I better finish the tree.”

“I could help?” Kurt offered.

Blaine grinned even wider. “Yes, that would be great. You’re so much better at this stuff than I am.” 

The boys spent the rest of the afternoon decorating the tree, and when Blaine’s mom walked in they were in the process of stringing popcorn.

“Oh, boys,” she said, dropping some bags in the doorway. “Thank you so much.” 

After admiring their work a bit more, she went into the kitchen and busied herself with warming up dinner. Kurt walked to the front door and Blaine saw him out.

“Tomorrow,” Kurt said.

“Tomorrow,” Blaine agreed.

The school week dragged on and the boys didn’t have nearly enough time to see each other with the holiday looming large and their moms needing help. Not to mention that the school chorus had a big concert Thursday night and they were both participating. All of this severely cut down on their alone time.

And then Kurt left right after school on Friday with his mom to go upstate and Blaine spent a lot of time reading and playing the piano and wishing Kurt was around. He had other friends, but none that he cared for or wanted to be around as much as Kurt.

On Christmas day, Blaine and his mom took the train into Manhattan to spend time with her elderly aunt. She was a nice enough lady and quite obviously was pleased with their visit, but it was a long, boring day. At least he got to wear the sweater from Kurt for the occasion.

The rest of the week was spent going to the movies with some of the guys from school and after Christmas shopping with his mom. He also helped her get everything set for the big neighborhood New Year’s Eve party they were hosting.

Kurt returned and the boys spent the evening helping Blaine’s mom move furniture and gather extra chairs from various neighbors’ houses. There was a snowstorm on New Year’s Eve, so they worked hard shoveling to make the sidewalks passable, this time turning down Mrs. Brennan’s hot chocolate. 

“We got a little tipsy last time,” Blaine said with a smile. 

“Oh boys, you need to raise your tolerance!” she exclaimed sternly, but with a smile in her eyes.

By about 8 o’clock that night they were less than good boys, having both snuck drinks with a bunch of the other kids in the neighborhood and claiming a spot to hang out with their friends on the screened in porch.

“You’ll catch your death out here,” Kurt’s mom said when she saw them all huddled around.

“Nah, we like it,” Kurt said.

“Well, come in when it gets to be too much.”

As soon she went back inside pretty much every single kid on that porch exhaled the cigarette smoke they’d been hiding in their puffed out cheeks.

Everyone got caught up in an argument about baseball, none of their friends could stop yapping about the Giants and the Dodgers moving to California next season. Kurt took advantage of the distraction to nudge Blaine with his elbow and gesture towards the screen door behind them. They slipped out without a word and over to Blaine’s empty house, Kurt pulling him through the shadows.

“What are we doing?” Blaine asked when they entered the unlocked back door.

“I hid a bottle of champagne over here for us,” Kurt said.

“Oh! I’ve never had champagne before.”

“I know, this seemed like a good year to start. I mean, we’re going to be turning seventeen soon. Practically adults,” Kurt said, taking the bottle out of the refrigerator and then examining it. “How do you pop the cork?”

It took longer than they would have liked to pop that cork, and they lost far more champagne in the process than they should have, but soon they were meandering up to Blaine’s room each taking sips from the bottle in turn.

Blaine flipped his light on and Kurt flipped it right off.

“What?” Blaine asked, but before he could say anything else Kurt’s lips were on his.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” Kurt said between kisses.

“I know,” Blaine breathed into his mouth. “Me neither.”

Kurt pulled back, panting and took another slug from the champagne bottle, feeling the bubbles tingle up his nose and into his brain, smiling slyly at Blaine.

Blaine’s breath was heaving, his heart hammering in his chest. He knew no one would walk in on them, they would hear the house creak and groan before anyone made it up the stairs, but he couldn’t stop himself from stepping around Kurt and closing his bedroom door with a soft click. Then he made sure his curtains were drawn. 

Kurt sat on the bed and when Blaine joined him he passed him the bottle. Blaine leaned in to kiss him again, but Kurt placed a hand on his chest and Blaine sat back.

Kurt crossed his legs primly and turned to Blaine. “May I be frank?”

“Only if I can still be Blaine.”

“Oh, hardy har har,” Kurt said, grabbing the bottle back.

“Go ahead, I’m sorry. This stuff is getting to me.”

Kurt cleared his throat and took another sip from the bottle for courage. “Do you ever get yourself off?”

“Course,” Blaine said, barely getting the word out, unable to even look at Kurt.

“I was thinking about, well, maybe we could… get each other off.”

Blaine whipped his head up to look at Kurt. “Really?”

Kurt smiled and blushed prettily, staring down into Blaine’s lap.

“That sounds…” Blaine had no idea how to finish that sentence, it sounded wonderful and amazing and like everything Blaine had ever dreamed, and also slightly terrifying. He palms began to sweat profusely. 

“How much time do you think we have?” Kurt whispered.

Blaine shrugged. “Plenty if we can think of a good enough excuse.”

“Hmm,” Kurt said, pressing a finger to his lips in thought. “Perhaps the compassionate Blaine Anderson was rescuing a kitten from a tree.”

“Maybe the selfless Kurt Hummel was helping an old lady cross the street.”

“Kind and brave Blaine Anderson was putting out a small fire in a neighbor’s yard.”

“Kurt Hummel, loyal and true, was kissing his good friend Blaine Anderson.”

Kurt shook his head soberly, but there was a glint of fun in his eye. “We can’t say that.”

“No, no, you’re absolutely right. What was I thinking?” Blaine said with a little giggle and he looked so cute that Kurt couldn’t help but join in.

After that there was a lot less talking and giggling as the boys started to kiss again. There were a few quiet murmurings as they both quickly took off their pants and squeezed into Blaine’s bed, close under the covers, their erections visible through their briefs.

Blaine put a tentative hand on Kurt’s hip. Their banter had helped ease his nerves, because that’s what they did, being around Kurt was fun because of conversations like the one they just had. But now the reality was setting in again. Blaine’s heart was beating so hard and fast he was sure Kurt could hear it. He placed a tentative hand on Kurt’s thigh.

“You’re going to have to do more than that to get me off,” Kurt said.

“I’m … working up to it,” Blaine said, taking a deep steadying breath. 

Kurt could sense his nerves, but he wasn’t exactly sure what part Blaine was nervous about. “We could try doing it at the same time?”

“Same time,” Blaine said, considering the option.

It was a bit of a blur after that, sweaty palms, elbows in the way, apologies for awkward angles. 

“Could you…” Blaine started to say and then shook his head.

“What if you?” Kurt made some kind of hand gesture that Blaine couldn’t interpret in the dark room.

“Maybe it would be easier if,” Blaine started saying as he tried to roll Kurt over.

“But then we can’t at the same time,” Kurt said.

“Then we can’t at the same time,” Blaine said, wishing he had had a little more champagne before slipping into bed. He was was too tense for this to be fun, but now he felt like he had to see it through.

After a dozen deep breaths in and out, Blaine closed his eyes and took Kurt in his hand and began stroking a long slow rhythm. It felt oddly… familiar.

“We can’t at the same time,” Kurt shuddered out, his breath catching. Even after all the fumbling, he knew he wouldn’t last very long, not with the way Blaine’s hand felt and the way Blaine’s hard cock pressed into his lower back.

“Uh,” Kurt said, about to warn Blaine that he was going to come, but then it was over and Blaine stroked Kurt’s sweaty neck for a few minutes.

Kurt’s eyes drifted close, trying to hold onto the feeling, hoping against hope that they’d be able to do this again someday.

“Hey, hey,” Blaine whispered, feeling a little more relaxed. At least Kurt seemed to like it even if was way too quick. “You’re not allowed to go to sleep.”

“I know,” Kurt mumbled, bringing his hand up and trying to pat Blaine’s face and missing because of the unwieldy angle. “Hold your horses.”

“I will do my very best, but my horses are ready and raring to go,” Blaine said, punctuating this sentiment by pressing even closer into Kurt. 

Kurt flipped onto his back and put his arms under his head.

“I like how you look in my bed,” Blaine mumbled bashfully, forgetting about his turn for a moment.

“You can barely see me.”

“I can see enough.”

Kurt trailed a hand down Blaine’s face.

“Take off your shirt,” Kurt said.

“Why? Your shirt is still on,” Blaine pointed out.

Kurt hinged up and shed his sweater followed by his button down, and then threw his undershirt off with a flourish. Blaine quickly followed suit when he caught sight of Kurt’s serious face in a sliver of moonlight.

“So, why did we do that?” Blaine asked.

“Honestly? I was worried about getting my sweater dirty,” Kurt admitted sheepishly.

Kurt trailed a finger down Blaine’s chest, still a young boy’s in some ways, but quickly becoming more like a man’s all the time. Kurt was momentarily jealous. He kissed the spot above Blaine’s heart and paused. 

“Blaine are you okay?”

Blaine shrugged.

Kurt pressed his ear to Blaine’s chest. “Your heart is beating really face.”

“I know,” Blaine said, a vague sort of humiliation setting in his stomach.

“You need to calm down,” Kurt said, and pushed him back onto the pillow.

He loomed over Blaine and then slipped a hand into his underwear. Blaine sucked in a ragged breath and tensed up.

Kurt shook his head and kissed his cheek.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “Relax.”

Blaine nodded, but didn’t look particularly relaxed. He hands fisted in the sheets.

“Touch me,” Kurt said.

“Where?”

“Just take your hands out of fists and put them on my waist or something. Stop looking so scared. It’s fantastic, I promise.”

Blaine moved a hand above his head and the other to Kurt’s waist, but if anything he looked and felt even more tense.

“Blaine,” Kurt said. “Calm down. This isn’t going to be fun if you don’t give into it.”

Blaine puffed out the breath he had been holding so tightly he was practically choking on it. Kurt kissed his chest again and began stroking Blaine’s cock slowly. He pressed his mouth to Blaine’s and hummed, feeling like he had to distract him from the moment.

“It’s okay,” Blaine breathed, mostly to himself.

“It’s okay,” Kurt responded, quickening his strokes.

Blaine grunted a bit as his eyes dipped closed, flexing his fingers on Kurt’s waist. Kurt felt his muscles loosen and had a fleeting thought that he hoped Blaine wouldn’t be so nervous the next time. Kurt took a second to hope and pray that there would be a next time. This probably wasn’t the best moment to think about God, he realized and quickly tried to clear his head, focusing back on Blaine. He kissed his forehead and felt Blaine tense a bit and then he came.

“Haa,” Blaine said. “Haaaa.”

“Are you laughing at me?”

“No, I lost my ability to speak for a moment.”

“I hate to break it to you, but you’re speaking right now.”

Blaine opened his eyes and stared into Kurt’s. “If I made you feel half as good as you just made me feel, we’re going to do this everyday for the rest of our lives.”

“I bet you say that to all the boys,” Kurt singsonged. They laid in each other’s arms for a while then, Blaine humming happily and Kurt whistling a note or two, smiling and kissing lazily until Blaine glanced over at his alarm clock.

“Gee whiz,” he said, shooting up straight. “It’s almost ten. We’ve been gone for hours!”

Blaine flipped on the light and they hopped out of bed, glad they kept their socks on if nearly nothing else because the floor was freezing beneath them as they scooped up their clothes.

“Oh, man, oh no,” Kurt said under his breath when he caught site of Blaine’s come splattered stomach and then looked down at this own.

“Hmm,” Blaine said, touching the tackiness of the half dried come. “This could get uncomfortable.” 

They went into the bathroom and took a damp towel, cleaning themselves up as best they could before drying off and putting on their rumpled clothes.

Blaine wanted to say something meaningful, but all of the words and phrases and sentences seemed to pale in comparison to what he was actually feeling.

“That was good right?” he asked, when he couldn’t take the quiet another second.

“It was very good,” Kurt said. “I think it’ll get even better when you don’t look like a deer in the headlights for half of it.”

Blaine shrugged. “I was nervous.”

“Me too,” Kurt admitted.

“You hid it better than I did.”

“Your hair,” Kurt said, when Blaine turned around to hang the towels on the drying rack. 

Blaine touched the back of his head. His hair was sticking up in every direction, but he knew he could fix it with a bit of water and a comb.

“How’s mine?” Kurt asked.

“Perfect as usual,” Blaine answered. Even this simple exchange felt infused with meaning that Blaine couldn’t quite grasp. They did something important that night, in Blaine’s bed, between his sheets that he was going to have to clean himself because he didn’t want his mother to touch something that suddenly seemed sacred. 

Before they walked out the back door, Kurt grabbed Blaine’s hand and squeezed it. “Happy New Year,” he said, kissing Blaine’s cheek.

“Happy New Year,” Blaine said back.

They snuck over to Kurt’s and found that their friends were now lurking in the kitchen rather than the porch.

“We couldn’t find you guys!” Kurt exclaimed, a bit too loud.

Quinn squinted at him. “We were right here,” she said. “How drunk are you?”

The boys look at each other. “Pretty drunk,” Blaine said.

Kurt nodded.

“Did you sneak away somewhere and drink?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Blaine said, smiling at Kurt. “Yeah, exactly that.”


	7. Under the Boardwalk (July, 1965)

Blaine was on the phone with his mom and once again she was on his case for spending too much time with Kurt and Quinn. 

“Blaine, go find yourself a nice girl, then you could double with Kurt and Quinn. I’ll babysit Beth! Or I’m sure Betty would be happy to. But skulking around like that, people are going to start to talk,” she said to him on the phone that morning.

“And what do you think they’re going to say, Ma?” he shot back.

“Well, to be quite honest, Mrs. Lanahan thinks that you and Quinn had something going on and that Kurt stole her from you. And that you can’t get over her and you use the excuse of your friendship with Kurt to be around her so much.”

Blaine heaved a sigh of relief that his mother misinterpreted. “Don’t huff at me like that, I’m just telling you what I heard.”

“Stop gossiping with the neighbors. You need a hobby.”

“I heard it playing bridge! That is a hobby! Gossip happens. And she didn’t say it to me, but she’s been spreading it around the neighborhood. I’d hate for it to get back to Kurt and Quinn. It would be hurtful.”

“You gotta stop, Ma.”

“No, I don’t. I’m your mother. Nothing can stop me,” she said, her voice lighter now at least. Blaine knew they had gotten through the hardest part of the conversation.

“Listen, I’m not going to miss out on a day at the beach, that Quinn personally invited me to, on my only day off this week, because of some gossip. But I’ll think about what you said. Okay?”

“Yes. You’re a good boy Blaine, I just want to see you happy. And there’s no way you’re going to be happy forever following around your friend and his family. The further you get into your 20’s the less fulfilling it will be.”

“I know, I swear I do, Ma.”

“I love you, Blaine. Have fun at the beach,” she said.

“Love you, too.” 

After they hung up, Blaine held the phone to his ear listening to the dial tone, wishing he could say more to his mom. He wished he could tell her that Mrs. Lanahan wasn’t that far off, but that it was Kurt he loved and Kurt he cherished above anyone else on earth. But even if Kurt wasn’t married, it’s not like they could truly be together.

He grabbed his duffle bag that contained his swim trunks and a towel and anything else he might need for the day, and headed down to the lobby and out the door. He whistled under his breath, forcing himself out of the funk the phone call with his mother had put him in. He knew she meant well, but it made him feel so bad.

He walked to the next subway stop instead of the one closest to his apartment because he felt like he needed the fresh air and the sunshine to clear his head before he saw Kurt and Quinn. As much as he knew he could talk to them about anything, he also didn’t want to burden them with his bad mood or how left out he felt.

“ _And your shoes get so hot you wish your tired feet were fireproof_ ,” he sang under his breath as he trotted down the stairs to the subway platform. Singing always did cheer him up, no matter what the situation was.

“ _Under the boardwalk, out of the sun_ ,” he continued, very quietly, feeling better with each lyric. “ _Under the boardwalk, we’ll be having some fun…_ ”

When he stepped onto the train he made a grab for the rail. It was a point of pride for Blaine never to take a seat on the train unless he was seriously exhausted or sick. Or if the train was mostly empty and he was on it with Kurt and they could sit next to each other. He could never pass up the opportunity to sit next to Kurt.

But those were the exact type of thoughts he needed to stop having, he told himself. Kurt was married and even if Blaine never wanted to get married himself, he needed to get over Kurt. He needed to stop obsessing about Kurt. Although today wasn’t an ideal day to make that resolution, seeing as how he was about to spend the majority of it in Kurt’s presence.

He was supposed to meet up with Kurt at noon by the men’s changing area. They had found a stretch of beach that few people frequented and it had quickly become their favorite. Never too many tourists over here, mostly because it was far from the rides. But the boys always liked to come just for the sake of the ocean air. When Quinn came into the picture she was happy to spend time there, too. Quinn was good like that, always willing to go along with whatever Kurt and Blaine had planned.

Blaine arrived a bit early having lucked out with the right subway coming at the right minute for once. He decided to get changed rather than wait for Kurt, trying to ignore the thoughts about how Kurt had helped him pick out the shorts. And how Kurt had bought him the shirt for his birthday.

He was like a lovesick teenager when it came to Kurt. It really was getting quite pathetic.

But he had no outlet for his feelings for Kurt. It was so rare that they got to spend time alone together, they had barely even kissed since Kurt got married. Just a sprinkling of stolen moments and one major indiscretion, but it wasn’t enough. Blaine ached for contact at times, trying to placate himself with a variety of toys that he would buy at expensive sex shops in dark alleys all over the city. 

It was never enough. Nothing ever scratched the itch that lived under his skin, that itch of pulsing, wanting need for another human being. He could feel it there, waiting, wanting him to notice it and do something about it. But what he really needed was Kurt to wrap his strong arms around him and Kurt to kiss him and tell him he was beautiful.

Blaine shook his head violently, remembering all of a sudden he was in public, in a men’s changing room of all places, about to disrobe and he certainly didn’t need anything unseemly to happen right now.

He stepped into the far corner away from anyone who might think he had prying eyes. Because the truth was his eyes did pry. He hoped someday that maybe he might meet someone, maybe a man he was as attracted to as he was to Kurt. Although he realized there were plenty of things that could go wrong with that scenario. So far there hadn’t been anyone, male or female, that even held a candle to Kurt’s charm and good looks and attitude. Kurt had a certain something that Blaine knew no one could compete with. The line of his body and the way he would look at Blaine.

He forced himself to stop daydreaming about Kurt and quickly finished changing, emerging out into the air that seemed to have gotten even warmer and sunnier while he was inside.

“Hey there stranger,” a familiar voice said as Blaine was rustling in his bag for a pair of sunglasses.

He looked up and smiled at Kurt who was barely a few feet away. There was no one around, no one paying attention. While he didn’t dare touch Kurt in public, he let his eyes linger on Kurt’s slim body from top to bottom, the body he’d been daydreaming about minutes before. 

It had been almost a month since they saw each other last. A long, lonely month of Blaine being swamped at work before his firm took most of August off, and of Kurt having to spend a week at Quinn’s mother’s house on a “family” vacation. It didn’t leave any time for them to see each other.

“Hey,” Blaine finally said after being quiet for far too long. “I missed you.”

Kurt nodded and smiled, but didn’t return the sentiment because two men came out of the changing station at that moment.

“I’m going to go in and change,” Kurt said. “The girls went into the ladies room and they said they’d meet us here when they finished.”

“Sure, I’ll wait here.”

Blaine settled at one of the picnic tables and waited impatiently for Kurt to reemerge. Blaine sunned his face and smiled at passers-by, just happy to know that he had several blissful hours ahead of him in Kurt’s presence.

“So,” Kurt said, plopping down at the table across from Blaine and making the whole thing rock for a second. “Glad we didn’t have any drinks on here.”

Blaine nodded, barely noticing Kurt’s lame attempt at humor when all he wanted to do was take him in with his eyes, like a man in a desert and Kurt was an oasis.

“Quinn brought her cousin Kitty along with us,” Kurt announced.

Blaine knew Kurt had been talking, he’d been watching his mouth move without taking in any of the words, but it was only at that moment that Blaine zoned back into their conversation.

“I didn’t know Quinn had a cousin named Kitty.”

“Sure you did. She’s the one who’s dad was in the army. They moved all over the place when she was a kid. Quinn was always bragging about postcards from her cousin Kitty.”

Blaine tried to remember and then shrugged. “Maybe it sounds familiar.”

Kurt shook his head. “Anyway, she’s here, so try to be nice to her. She just graduated from Smith so she’s a little younger than us.”

“I’m always nice,” Blaine said, interrupting, letting Kurt know that he was offended through his put upon facial expression.

“Okay, well, yes. But you know, decorum and all,” Kurt said, coughing a little, obviously uncomfortable.

“Oh,” Blaine breathed out.

“Like maybe don’t stare at my mouth that way in front of her,” Kurt said, his voice more strained.

Blaine looked away, embarrassed. “Sorry about that,” he said. “It’s just really good to see you.”

Kurt looked around quickly and then patted Blaine’s hand. “It’s good to see you too,” he said with a wink.

“You can’t tell me to stop staring at your mouth and then wink at me,” Blaine said, pitching his voice low. “You’re such a tease.”

“I like your striped shirt,” Kurt said, blatantly ignoring Blaine’s protestations.

“And then complimenting my shirt? That’s even worse.”

Kurt smiled coyly.

“And of course you like it, you bought it for me,” Blaine answered.

“I have very good taste,” Kurt said, before tensing almost imperceptibly and saying through his teeth, “Here they come.” 

Blaine turned around and found Quinn walking towards them, with a pretty blonde girl, and pushing Beth in an orange, blue and yellow plaid stroller.

“Those colors are monstrous together,” Blaine muttered.

“It was from Quinn’s mother and I do have to admit it’s easier to maneuver this smaller one around,” Kurt said, still speaking through his teeth.

After greetings and introductions, they moved onto the beach. Blaine couldn’t help but notice the way Kitty didn’t smile at him the way most girls did, particularly when those girls found out that he was an unmarried law student at Fordham. Blaine and Kitty set up a blanket, placing various items on the edges so it wouldn’t blow away, while Kurt and Quinn set up their beach chairs. 

Quinn put Beth in the middle of the blanket after everything was set. She tried to look up at her mother, nearly tipping over because the brim of her sun bonnet came so low over her eyes. Quinn patted her head and went to look for sand toys in her bag.

At just a year old, Beth was swiftly becoming one of Blaine’s favorite people on earth. Right now she was moody and frowning and obviously not pleased with any of them. Blaine laid himself out on the blanket next to her, undoing her bonnet and kissing her cheek. He started tickling her, wanting to make her giggle, and when he succeeded he looked over at Kitty sitting on the other side of Beth.

“So I hear you went to Smith,” Blaine said wanting to engage Kitty at least a little bit, certainly not wanting to appear rude to Quinn’s cousin.

“Listen,” she said, her voice far more harsh than Blaine expected. “This is quite obviously a set up, but I’m really not here to find a boyfriend, or God forbid a husband. I don’t care what my parents want. I’m only living with Kurt and Quinn until I can save enough money to get my own place.”

Blaine held his hands up in surrender, a smile growing across his face.

“You think you’re so cute,” she said.

Blaine’s eyes were wide and he was very close to laughing at her. There was no way Kurt and Quinn brought Kitty along to try to set them up, though Kitty had no way of knowing that. He knew Quinn would not want her cousin to get involved with someone like Blaine, so the whole scenario was quite laughable to him.

“I don’t think I’m cute,” he said, sitting up straight and shading his eyes to look at her. She sat primly on the blanket, legs curled under her, sunglasses slid down her nose so Blaine could see the serious look in her eyes.

She scoffed.

“No seriously. I don’t I’m cute at all. I think I’m fairly grotesque,” Blaine said, crossing his arms, still trying to stifle his laughter.

Kitty rolled her eyes and pushed her sunglasses back up her nose, looking away from him and towards the ocean.

“And I also don’t want to get married,” he said.

“Well, then, at least we agree on that.”

As the day wore on, it turned out that Kitty and Blaine actually agreed on quite a lot. They both loved the water, but detested the way sand worked its way into every nook and cranny. They both loved hot dogs with ketchup even though Kurt and Quinn both vehemently claimed it was ridiculous to put anything but mustard on a hot dog.

They both laughed far too long when a wave knocked Kurt over when he was distracted by a pretty sea shell. And when the day finished Kitty shook Blaine’s hand before the family and Blaine parted ways.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing you again,” Kitty said imperiously. 

“That won’t exactly be all that hard to arrange,” Quinn said. “These two are basically inseparable.”

Kitty smiled. 

Kurt and Quinn continued on, Kitty with them, but before they disappeared on the train, Kitty turned and walked backward a few steps.

“I still don’t want to get married,” she said, her face serious, eyes appraising Blaine.

Blaine leaned back on a column, settling in to wait for his own train. “Me neither,” he said.

The train doors closed and Kitty waved her fingers at him. Blaine missed Kurt’s grimace in the background. For the first time in his life he had eyes for someone else.


	8. You Belong to Me (October, 1952)

Blaine had been thinking about his father a lot lately. He often spent hours gazing longingly at the photograph his mother kept on the mantle, the only one she had.

They met in 1941 when his mother, a US Army nurse, was sent to the Philippines where Blaine’s father was a soldier in the Philippine Army. It all seemed very romantic to him, particularly the way his mother would tell the story. How quickly she had fallen for his father, and how quickly they had gotten married, and how in mere weeks she learned that she was pregnant with Blaine.

Blaine had spent a long time that night staring at the picture, taking in the way his father’s eyes were smiling even when his face was so serious. He liked looking at the people in the background, wondering about them, wondering if they had a picture of his father’s back from this same moment.

His mom said that maybe someday they would have enough money to fly to the Philippines to meet his grandparents and aunts and uncles there, but it was a lot of money and while they weren’t destitute they didn’t really have much money for expensive trips. They corresponded regularly via letter though and his mom always sent pictures to his relatives. His grandmother always wrote back, delighting in Blaine’s growth.

He never felt particularly sad about the situation because he hadn’t known his father. All he knew of him was this picture. He was killed on December 8, 1941 when Japan invaded the Philippines, less than a month before he was going to be discharged from the service and move back to America with Blaine’s mom.

But at the ripe old age of ten, Blaine had started feeling sad about his father, and lack thereof. It helped that Kurt’s dad had died in the war too. But Kurt at least got to meet his dad, Kurt had vague flickering memories of being hoisted on his old man’s shoulders. Blaine had none of that.

His stomach stabbed in pain for a second, and the dramatic part of his mind gave him the idea that it was a stab of sadness.

His mom called him for dinner soon after that and he decided against asking her a bunch of questions that night and making her sad, even though he couldn’t stop thinking about his father. 

She pestered him through the whole meal about how he wasn’t eating enough meat loaf and that moving his mashed potatoes all over his plate didn’t count as eating them. Nor did it count if he hid his green beans in his napkin.

Blaine just didn’t have much of an appetite, thanks to the stab of sadness.

He went to bed early, tossing and turning, feeling like he just couldn’t find a comfortable position. When he did finally drift to sleep, he dreamed that he was fighting in the war with his dad, right alongside him on the battlefield. And his dad turned to smile at him at the same time that there was an explosion and something flew right into Blaine’s gut, setting his whole body on fire.

He woke up screaming and in excruciating pain. He was in so much pain that he could barely lift his head to check his stomach for what surely must have been a life threatening wound. But when he looked down, there was nothing there. He wasn’t bleeding or anything, but it still hurt so much he could hardly breathe.

His mother had stumbled into his room at that point.

“Blaine?” she asked, flipping on the light. “Blainey, what’s wrong?”

“My stomach,” he groaned. “It hurts so much I thought I died in the war.”

His mom tried to understand what he was saying but she figured he was delirious with the pain. She checked his forehead and it was warm and damp. She probed his abdomen, which was quite obviously swollen.

“Do you need to throw up?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he said, starting to cry now. It hurt so bad.

“It’s okay, baby,” she said, smoothing his hair back. “We’re going to go to the hospital.”

She scooped him up, blankets and all, and started to carry him.

“I can walk,” he muttered.

“it’s okay,” she said. “I’ve got you.” 

When they arrived at the hospital his mom worked at, they were ushered into the emergency room and his mom learned that her suspicions were correct and Blaine had appendicitis. They would remove it immediately.

“How are you feeling?” she asked as he lay on a gurney about to be taken into surgery. He looked so small there and his mom tried so hard not to cry.

“Okay,” he said, blinking drowsily. They had already given him something for the pain. 

She kissed his cheek. “Be a brave boy and it will be over very soon.”

“I hope I dream about dad again,” he said, and then fell asleep.

*****

When Kurt’s mom filled him in on what happened the previous night to Blaine, Kurt was nearly inconsolable. 

“I need to see him now!” he wailed.

“They don’t let kids into the hospital, Kurt,” she said.

“I need to see him,” he said, his lip quivering and his eye fillings with unshed tears.

“Well, Clara said she’d call this morning to let me know how he was doing and I’ll ask her then if there’s any way we could sneak you in to see him.”

“Okay,” Kurt said, nodding and the tears spilled out his eyes. “He’s my best friend in the whole wide world and I need to know he’s okay.”

“I know, I promise we’ll do our best,” his mom said, squeezing his shoulder. “Now go get your school things.”

Kurt stood up straighter. “I am far too worried to go to school.”

“No you are not, go upstairs and get your school bag.”

“I don’t think I can go, Mom. I’ll just be thinking about Blaine all day, alone in his hospital room, having who knows what kind of torture inflicted upon him.”

“Where do you even get these ideas?” his mom asked, already thinking she would relent and let him stay home.

“Books,” Kurt answered honestly.

His mother knew she should send him off to school, but the look on his face was so serious, so concerned, so earnest that it felt cruel to make him go. 

“But if we can’t get you in to see Blaine, you are going to school. I’m not going to have you lazing about this house all day. And if you stay home today, you better believe that you’re going tomorrow.”

He huffed and crossed his arms, but knew he couldn’t fight either of those points. As long as he got to see Blaine today and see for himself that Blaine was okay, he could manage going to school tomorrow. Even though school was the pits when Blaine wasn’t there. 

Kurt was finishing his breakfast when the phone rang. He could only hear one side of the conversation, but it sounded like it was actually going his way.

“Clara, I hate to bother you about this, but do you think there’s any chance for Kurt to get into see Blaine? I know there are rules…”

“No, that’s fine. We can be there for eleven…”

“Yes, he convinced me to let him stay home.”

“I know. I’m getting soft.”

“As long as you’re sure it’s no trouble.”

“Well, we’ll see you then. Is there anything I could bring you?”

Kurt tuned out after that, thinking about the books he should bring Blaine and maybe his favorite teddy bear, even though teddy bears were kid stuff. Blaine would probably like to have some company.

Kurt bounced around the rest of the morning while they got ready to leave. And then in the car the whole ride to the hospital. And while they parked the car. And as they got out of the car.

“Kurt, honey, you need to calm down. You don’t want to overwhelm Blaine. He’s still very sick. He’s going to be in bed and you need to be gentle and quiet,” his mom lectured as they walked towards the big building, his hand in hers. 

It was only when they entered the lobby and Kurt looked around did his chest constrict and he realized the seriousness of the situation. It had all gotten lost in the unexpected day off from school and getting his way. Blaine was sick. Blaine was very sick. No one had said it, but Kurt was pretty sure that Blaine could have died. Kurt hugged his teddy bear closer, feeling silly and childish, but really needing the comfort. 

They were directed to the third floor by the nurse at the desk who eyed Kurt wearily.

“He’s going to have to stay in the waiting room. Can’t have him traipsing germs around.”

Kurt’s mother nodded and smiled but didn’t bother to mention that Clara Anderson had taken care of all that.

They went up the rickety elevator and Kurt’s stomach swooped. 

“Can I get appendicitis from Blaine?” Kurt asked.

“No, sweetie, it’s not contagious.”

He gripped his mom’s hand a little bit tighter.

When they stepped off the elevator, Blaine’s mom was waiting for them by a bank of vending machines. She was still in her pajamas from the night before and smiled when she saw the bag that Kurt’s mom was holding for her. It was full of a bunch of clothes and junk that she went and collected at Blaine’s house just before they left.

The moms hugged.

“Clara,” Kurt’s mom said. “I’m so glad he’s okay. I was scared out of my mind last night.”

“You and me both, Bets,” she said, squeezing her friend tightly.

Then she turned to Kurt. “How are you doing today?”

Kurt nodded, suddenly unable to speak because he was so nervous.

“Blaine woke up a little while ago. He’s still groggy and sore. I didn’t tell him you were coming but I think this is a good surprise, don’t you?”

Kurt nodded again, this time forcing a smile. He suddenly noticed how weird everything smelled in the hospital. Like too clean and weird sick and maybe even like death. Although he wasn’t sure what death smelled like. 

“We’re going to slip through here and you’re going to be very quiet. Technically you can’t be up here, but I’m friends with the girls at the desk and I told them how you guys are best buddies and they’re going to turn a blind eye. But you need to be very good for me, okay?” 

“Of course, Mrs. Anderson,” Kurt said, standing up straight and tall.

“Good boy,” she said.

“I’ll wait right here,” Kurt’s mom said. “Then maybe when Kurt comes out, I could go in quick and see him for myself.”

Blaine’s mom smiled and nodded.

Walking down the hall to Blaine’s hospital room was surely the longest walk of his entire life. Kurt felt like eons passed as he walked next to Blaine’s mom, kind of wishing she would hold his hand. He was getting nervous again.

When they finally arrived at the open door, Mrs. Anderson nudged Kurt through. He was surprised by how small the room was. He was expecting a big ward like on TV, but this only had four beds in it, two on each side, each one with a curtain that could be pulled around it. Blaine was on the far side on the right, next to the window. His hair was all messed up in a way that Blaine never liked. Kurt felt an indescribable need to fix it for him.

He slowly walked to the bed, peeking behind him only once and Blaine’s mom motioned for him to keep going. “I’ll give you boys a minute while I go change,” she whispered. And then she was gone and Kurt had no choice but to keep going towards Blaine’s bed. Because he couldn’t for the life of him remember how to get back to the waiting room.

There was a chair next to the bed and Kurt slid into it, unable to look at Blaine right away. As he got comfortable he slowly looked towards Blaine, who had his eyes closed. Kurt thought about touching his hand to wake him up, but then he remembered what his mom said about Blaine hurting. Kurt wasn’t sure if his whole body hurt, or just his stomach, but Kurt figured probably his hand hurt too where the needle was poked in.

“Kurt?” Blaine said. He must have woken up while Kurt was staring at the needle in the back of his hand.

“Hi,” Kurt squeaked trying to whisper so as not to disturb the other patients.

“Why are you here?” Blaine asked, squinting at him.

Kurt thought for a minute about teasing his friend, saying something funny about how this was heaven and Kurt was his guardian angel, but then he realized Blaine might not be in any shape to take a joke. Right now he looked confused and like he was on the verge of crying.

“Your mom snuck me in,” Kurt whispered, drawing the chair closer and leaning on the mattress.

Blaine smiled sleepily at that.

“I’m so glad you’re okay. I was so scared. And I must have looked really scared cause I convinced my mom not to make me go to school until I could see you.”

Blaine rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand. “What time is it?”

“Almost noon.”

They sat quietly for a minute and Blaine seemed to wake up more.

“Aren’t you going to ask me how I am?” he asked Kurt.

For whatever reason, that was when Kurt’s emotions caught up with him. The realization once again that Blaine was sick and that he had surgery. And that Kurt was so worried, and so scared of losing Blaine. He started to cry then, unable to stop the tears.

“Oh, Kurt, don’t cry,” Blaine said, trying to move closer to Kurt so he could comfort him somehow. He knew sitting up wouldn’t work, but he wanted his friend to feel better.

“I was so worried,” Kurt sniffled.

“I’m okay. I’ll go home in a couple of days and everything will be fine,” Blaine said.

“Does it hurt a lot?” Kurt asked, getting control of his tears.

“Not anymore. Last night it hurt pretty bad,” Blaine told him, his face pinched at the memory.

“I’m sorry.”

A throat cleared in the doorway and it was Blaine’s mom, dressed in normal clothes and gesturing for him to come.

“It’s time to go,” she said.

“Mom-” Blaine started.

She gave him a look. “You need to rest Blaine.”

“I know,” he said, yawning. And he really did know. This conversation with Kurt had really tired him out. But he was so happy that Kurt had come. 

“Here,” Kurt said, suddenly remembering the teddy bear that was in his hands, along with the stack of books he brought from home. He placed the books on the side table and handed the bear to Blaine.

“You brought Beary for me?” Blaine asked, shocked. Kurt never ever let him touch his most prized possession. His dad had given it to Kurt before he left to serve in Germany. 

“Yeah, to borrow, not to keep,” Kurt was quick to add.

Blaine cuddled the worn toy up to his face. It smelled like Kurt.

“And you should read all those books so we can talk about them,” Kurt said as he walked to the door.

Blaine scanned the pile and smiled, happy to have a distraction for the next couple of days.

“For now you can go to sleep though,” Kurt said, catching Blaine yawning again.

“Okay,” Blaine answered with a smile, snuggling into his pillow and holding Beary close. “Thanks Kurt,” he mumbled as he drifted off. Kurt turned then and left the room with Blaine’s mom’s hand on his shoulder.

“That was very nice of you to bring those things for Blaine,” Mrs. Anderson said as they took the long walk back to Kurt’s mom.

“It was no problem,” Kurt said. “Blaine is my best friend in the whole wide world.”

“I know he is. He’ll be home in a few days. I’ll let your mom know what’s going on. Maybe I can wrangle you guys a phone call at some point between now and then. Okay?”

Kurt nodded and settled into a waiting room chair. His mom went in to see Blaine then, but she came out a few minutes later.

“He’s sleeping, all cuddled up with Beary. I think he really appreciated you bringing him your bear.”

Kurt smiled and took his mom’s hand.

“Now we need to go home and I need to make Blaine get well cards. And a welcome home sign, and maybe some paper flowers for by his bed here because that room is very dull,” Kurt babbled, his energy returning now that he knew Blaine was okay.

Kurt’s mom just shook her head and sighed. Her son was basically unstoppable and she liked him that way.


	9. I Fall to Pieces (January, 1964)

Blaine curled up tightly in a ball on his childhood bed and let Patsy Cline’s voice wash over him. Right now he was listening to “He’s Got You” over and over again. It reminded him so much of Kurt.

He was letting himself sulk the entire weekend after Kurt’s wedding on Friday. It was now Sunday afternoon. He planned on staying right here for at least a few more days, particularly since classes didn’t start until next Monday. No need to rush back into the world.

_I’ve got your class ring that proved you cared  
And it still looks the same as when you gave it, dear_

He wasn’t entirely sure how everything had gotten so out of control. One minute Quinn had been announcing she was pregnant and the next thing Blaine knew Kurt had been asking her to marry him. They were both scared after what had happened with Professor Berry, but Blaine never thought Kurt would jump at the chance to marry a woman. And no matter how much they discussed it, it never made sense in Blaine’s mind. 

Not that there was a lot of time for processing the idea. Last month at this time he and Kurt were studying for finals and stealing kisses in their apartment. And now Blaine was here alone.

He even lost his apartment in the city, having offered it up to Kurt and Quinn to live in together, lying and saying he’d be happy to move back in with his mom for the last semester of college.

_I’ve got your memory, or has it got me  
I really don’t know, but I know that it won’t let me be_

Everything felt so awful and wrong, Blaine could almost imagine that he had appendicitis again. That’s how much his stomach hurt, how wrong everything felt deep inside.

_I’ve got these little things  
She’s got you_

“That’s right, Patsy,” Blaine said to his turntable. “You really understand me.”

He was about to change records and bask in the pain of “I Fall to Pieces” also by Patsy Cline, when his mother knocked on his door.

“Blaine?” she said through it, her voice a question. He knew she was worried about him, but he couldn’t face her, not yet. 

“Yeah, Ma,” he answered.

“Why don’t you come down and have lunch? Or breakfast since you haven’t actually eaten anything today. Or dinner since I don’t think you ate that last night.”

“I’m not hungry, Mom. I don’t want breakfast or lunch or dinner.” He didn’t add that all he really wanted was for Kurt to be single.

“You can’t just live in your room until the semester starts. At least open the door and talk to me like an adult,” she said.

Blaine heaved himself off his bed and stopped the record, turning in his small room and opening the door. He leaned against the door jam and folded his arms.

“Yes, mother,” he said.

“Blaine, you’re a mess,” she said, sympathy in her voice. He obviously hadn’t shaved the past two days and the scruff looked patchy. His hair was matted and dirty. His eyes were red and vacant, with deep bags underneath. He was wearing pajamas that looked like they hadn’t been washed since high school. He was usually so meticulous about his appearance that if she wasn’t worried before, she was definitely worried now.

He shrugged.

“Blaine, talk to me, what’s wrong?”

He shrugged.

“At least take a shower and let me make you some tea and toast.”

The kindness and concern in her voice was enough to make him want to cry all over again. He exhaled a shaky breath. 

“There’s no way a shower and a shave won’t make you feel a little bit better, at least.”

Blaine sighed. “Okay.”

“I’ll put tea on.”

“Thanks Mom,” Blaine said.

She winked at him and headed back downstairs.

He let the water run hot on skin for a long time, turning under the cascading faucet and trying his best to clear his mind.

“It’s just all so stupid,” he muttered, leaning his forearms against the wall under the showerhead and allowing the water to pound on his back. He decided against shaving, it just seemed like an awful lot of effort when he was planning on staying in the house for the next eight days.

He wandered down to the kitchen, still towel drying his hair, wearing an undershirt and comfortable slacks.

“That looks more like my boy,” his mom said as he entered the room.

Blaine smiled and took a seat at the table. She sat across from him.

“It was bound to happen someday, Blaine. Kurt would get married, and you’ll get married too, and you’ll understand. You boys will always be friends.”

Blaine grimaced and nodded.

“And you’ll see him again. He’s still going to school, you’ll still have classes together. I’m sure he and Quinn will invite you over for supper,” she said, obviously trying to placate her son. She could tell she was failing when he didn’t respond.

“What is it Blaine? What am I not understanding?”

Blaine sighed. “It’s kind of a secret.”

She drew her eyebrows in tight. “Okay. I can keep a secret. And maybe talking about it will help.”

Blaine scrubbed at his face with his hands. He couldn’t tell her the full story, he knew that, but maybe if he told her a piece of it she would look a lot less worried.

“Well, um, Quinn is pregnant, but you can’t tell Mrs. Hummel or the Fabrays.”

His mom gasped.

“And they weren’t really ready to get married, but they decided it was for the best and I just … feel bad for them, because they’re good people, but they rushed into this really fast,” he said, trying to think of words to use to make his mother understand why he was taking Quinn’s pregnancy so hard.

“Oh my, Blaine.”

“You really can’t tell Kurt’s mom. Or Quinn’s parents. He’d kill me if he knew I told you. They don’t want anyone to know yet. They’re going to say she got pregnant on the honeymoon. The baby will still seem to come early, but hopefully no one will count too closely.”

“This does make a lot more sense,” his mom said. “And explains why you’re so upset.”

Blaine let out a quiet sigh of relief. “Do you promise not to tell anyone?” he asked, looking his mother directly in the eye.

“Yes, of course, of course. They’re adults,” she said. “They can make their own decisions. Thank you for telling me. I don’t know what I was expecting.” She chuckled a little but didn’t continue her thought.

She sat for a moment, thinking of what the neighbors would say if they found out about Kurt and Quinn. But Clara Anderson wasn’t one to judge that way. Not with the whirlwind romance she had experienced with Ray in the Philippines. The first few years she grew weary of all the dirty looks and assumptions that she’d gotten herself knocked up out of wedlock. She even carried their marriage certificate around for a while. She stood and sighed, moving to the counter and steadying herself for a moment, wishing she could think of a way to help those kids.

She placed the cup of tea that had been brewing in front of Blaine then, fixing it with milk and sugar. Then she buttered his toast and got out the jar of strawberry preserves. Blaine ate in silence, enjoying the food more than he expected, feeling his fortitude return with each bite. he knew telling his mom was a good idea, even if he couldn’t tell her everything. He felt lighter already. She sat back down across from him but didn’t press him to say more on the subject.

“Do you need anything else?” she asked as Blaine licked his fingers.

“Nope,” Blaine said with a grin.

“You look better,” she said. Then she patted his face. “No shave?”

“It’ll keep my face warm,” he said.

She smiled and stood. “I better get ready for work now. I have the overnight shift.”

Blaine washed his dishes and then went into the living room, flicking on the TV and hoping that maybe there was a Sunday afternoon movie on. When that didn’t pan out, he decided instead to get dressed and go to the movies himself. 

He ate popcorn and sat through a showing of Move Over Darling which probably cut a little too close to home if he was being perfectly honest with himself, particularly because Kurt kind of looked like James Garner. He wasn’t sure if other people would agree. Blaine had a bit of a habit of seeing Kurt everywhere.

It was dark out by the time the movie ended, but he decided to walk home from the theater. He put his hat and gloves on and jammed his hands deep into his coat pockets. He figured he could use the fresh air. 

He picked his way down icy sidewalks, slipping a bit here and there, grumbling under his breath. Several blocks from home he saw car lights approaching him and he tensed a bit. No one knew about him and Kurt, except for Quinn, but he was always waiting for the other shoe to drop, for someone to realize the feelings he shared with Kurt. But that was the whole point of Kurt getting married, to keep them safe.

The car pulled up several feet away from him and the driver’s side window rolled down.

“Kurt,” Blaine breathed, when he saw his face in the glow of the street light. He quickly forgot everything else, his sadness and despair, just happy to see Kurt’s familiar face.

“You look like your best friend just died,” Kurt said.

“I would say that it feels like he did, but I wouldn’t want to be accused of dramatics.”

Kurt frowned sympathetically.

“Come on, I’ll give you a ride the rest of the way, you must be freezing.”

Blaine got in the car. It was warm and smelled of smoke.

“Can I bum a cigarette?” Blaine asked. He wasn’t a regular smoker, and neither was Kurt, but the smell at the moment really made him want one.

“Quinn left a pack in the glove compartment.”

Blaine took one out and lit it, inhaling deeply and imagining the smoke thawing him from the inside out. 

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you still be on your honeymoon?” Blaine asked. He could feel Kurt’s eyes on him, but he kept his gaze steady out the passenger side window.

Kurt sighed. “There’s not a whole heck of a lot to do in the Poconos if you’re not going to ski.”

Blaine nodded.

“We were only going to stay until tomorrow anyway but Quinn wasn’t feeling so good. Apparently she gets morning sickness all day.”

Blaine blinked back a few tears and tried to ignore the lump in his throat. He took another drag of his cigarette and tried to swallow his emotions, but it had the opposite effect and a moment later he could feel a tear roll down his cheek. 

Kurt pulled into a parking lot and turned off the engine.

“Please talk to me Blaine,” he said.

“Not a whole lot to say,” Blaine said. He rolled the window down half an inch and tapped his ash outside.

“I hate when you’re surly like this,” Kurt said, reaching for the pack and lighting one of his own.

“I’m not being surly. Not even a little bit. I’m sad, Kurt. Legitimately sad. It all seems so wrong.”

“It does.”

“What are you doing here anyway? Where’s Quinn?”

“Back at the apartment. There were a bunch of gifts I needed to pick up from my mom’s house, but I couldn’t quite face her and answer questions about coming home from our honeymoon early so I decided to drive around instead.”

“I hate this,” Blaine said.

“Me too.”

“Then why? Why are you doing this? Why are you putting us through this?”

“Come on Blaine, how many times can we go around in these circles? I did it for Quinn and the baby. And I did it to protect us. People would start talking eventually. We don’t want to end up like Professor Berry.”

“Maybe I should go to law school,” Blaine said. “Then maybe I could protect people like us and Professor Berry.”

“I think you would make a good lawyer, a nice lawyer. The kind who works for the good of mankind and champions the underdog.”

“You make it sound far more romantic than it would be,” Blaine said. But his mind was already working. He wondered if he still had time to apply.

They finished their cigarettes and Kurt drove Blaine back to his house but didn’t park.

“Aren’t you going in?”

“Nah, I don’t think I can. It might sound dumb, but I can’t face her right now. I’d rather have her believe we were still on our honeymoon and everything was peachy keen.”

Blaine nodded. He wanted to tell Kurt that he had told his mother about Quinn’s pregnancy, but Kurt seemed so sad and overburdened at the moment that Blaine really didn’t think he could add to it.

“I’ll see you soon,” Blaine said, sticking his head back in the door before he closed it. “Thanks for the smoke.”

“Anytime,” Kurt said. “I’ll probably stop in to see you tomorrow when I come to pick up the presents.”

Blaine nodded and watched Kurt drive off, promising himself that he wouldn’t be home when Kurt came tomorrow. He needed to move on. Maybe he’d go up to Fordham and look into their law program instead.


	10. Some Enchanted Evening (November, 1958)

“I just want you to know that Quinn asked me to the Sadie Hawkins dance,” Kurt said casually and apropos of nothing while he and Blaine were walking home from school one Friday in early November.

Blaine looked over at him, alarm spreading across his face.

“Is that okay? I don’t know why I’m telling you, I guess…” Kurt trailed off. It had been ten months since the boys kissed last winter, and they had kissed a few times since then. They weren’t dating of course, that wasn’t how these things worked. They were just friends who kissed sometimes, but Kurt felt like he needed to at least tell Blaine about Quinn’s invitation so he wouldn’t be blindsided when the day of the dance arrived.

Blaine chewed at his lip and didn’t make eye contact. He trained his gaze on the sidewalk in front of them, Kurt becoming more nervous with each step.

“I figured I would let you know. Um. Is this okay? Are you mad at me?”

“Well, no,” Blaine said finally. “I’m not mad at you. I guess I’m trying to figure out why none of the girls asked me.” 

“Oh,” Kurt breathed. “Don’t feel bad.”

“Why not? This is such a slight! I mean, I’m not really close to any of them, but you would think that at least Sugar, or maybe Tina, or someone would have invited me.”

“I’m sorry,” Kurt said. “I honestly am. I don’t know why none of the girls invited you. Maybe you put off a vibe that you don’t want to go?”

Blaine shrugged. It bothered him all that afternoon and it ate at him while he tried to fall asleep later that night. He stewed about it all weekend long. The notion that there wasn’t one girl at school who wanted to spend an evening with him. He would make an excellent date. Obviously he’d rather go with Kurt than some girl, but he wouldn’t mind going at all. He was an excellent dancer and a fantastic conversationalist.

When he and Kurt arrived at school on Monday, Quinn was waiting near their lockers. 

“Hey, Quinn,” Kurt said.

“Hey, boys,” she said.

“Quinn, why didn’t any of the girls ask me to the dance?” Blaine asked. It just popped out of his mouth. He had been able to think about anything else since Kurt told him about Quinn asking him and he needed to know why. Between the lack of sleep all weekend and feeling so left out of whatever might happen between Kurt and Quinn, he just couldn’t take it for another second.

“Well, good morning to you, too, Blaine,” she said.

He shook his head, suddenly ashamed. “I’m sorry. That was idiotic and rude. Forget I asked.”

“No, no, it’s okay. I actually do have an answer for that, though it might not be the one you want to hear.”

Blaine braced himself for the harsh truth. 

“They all think you’ll reject them,” Quinn said.

“What? Why?” That was not what Blaine had been expecting at all. He had thought it would be something more like they thought he was a know-it-all, or no one want to date him because he was half Filipino. 

“Of course I would say yes,” he said as he hung his jacket up and collected his books for his first class. “Not to all of them, obviously, but I’d like to go and it’s not my turn to do the asking.”

“But you never asked anyone to a dance in the past,” she pointed out.

“Neither has Kurt,” Blaine volleyed back. “Why did you ask him?”

“Leave me out of this,” Kurt said, turning from his locker and gesturing that they should get to homeroom.

“It’s a valid question,” Quinn admitted. “I wanted to go and I knew he would say yes. No one wants to be rejected, Blaine. No one. Particularly by a boy like you.”

Blaine licked his lips and his palms started to sweat. He chanced a look towards Kurt who was obviously trying hard not to react to what Quinn had just said. She couldn’t know about them, could she? What if she had seen them somehow? She lived in the same neighborhood, maybe she had seen them kissing through a window, or…

Before Blaine could follow that thought process any further, Quinn continued.

“You’re cute and popular, you get all the solos in chorus, and you’re on the baseball team. You’re class president and you have straight A’s.”

That was all very true. “But that’s all good stuff, wouldn’t that make a girl like me more?”

“Of course, but it also make you look way out of everyone’s league,” Quinn said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I’m not out of anyone’s league,” Blaine muttered as they slid into their seats in homeroom just as the bell rang.

“Blaine, you’re out of everyone’s league,” Quinn insisted.

He crossed his arms and sulked. It didn’t seem fair that simply because he was a joiner and a bit of an overachiever that that meant he also couldn’t date anyone he wanted to. Not that he wanted to date girls. But it was the principle of the matter and it was making him quite frustrated.

He walked around the rest of the day frowning, trying to come up with a solution to this dilemma. As the day wore on though, it didn’t seem like there was much he could do in this situation. 

Walking home with Kurt that day was uncomfortable. Kurt kept up a stream of chatter about the chorus concert coming up for the holidays and how he had made several suggestions about songs they should be doing, all of them in his vocal range of course.

“Can you believe what Quinn said this morning? About me being out of everyone’s league?” he asked, his voice gruff from disuse.

Kurt came up short, stopping in his tracks. “I can totally believe it.”

“What? No. Why? That’s not fair,” Blaine spluttered.

“Of course the girls are intimidated by you. You never talk to them.”

“I talk to girls all the time,” he grumbled as they began walking again.

“You never talk to girls unless you absolutely have to.”

“I don’t want to get in their way. They’re always, flitting around, spritzing perfume and running to the bathroom together. I don’t have anything to talk to them about.”

“Oh, Blaine,” Kurt said, shaking his head. “That is pathetic.”

“What?”

“You’re afraid of girls!”

“I am not! I just…” he paused, feeling his mood darkening by the moment. “I don’t know. What’s the point of girls when I really want to spend all my time with you?”

“Stop, you’re making me blush,” Kurt said with a grin and light punch to Blaine’s shoulder.

“It’s true,” Blaine said.

“Well, that’s all well and good, but I’m going to that dance with Quinn because it’ll be a good time. So either start talking to girls or get used to the idea that you’re spending an evening at home with your mother this coming Friday.”

“Maybe that doesn’t sound like such a bad idea,” Blaine said turning his nose up.

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that.”

“Doesn’t Quinn have a friend she could coerce into inviting for me?”

“That sort of negates the whole spirit of Sadie Hawkins,” Kurt said, crinkling up his nose as if the idea had a bad smell to it.

“This is stupid,” Blaine said. “I don’t know why I care so much. I guess I just want to spend time with you, but it’s not like I’ll really get to spend time with you at this dumb dance anyway.”

They were at Kurt’s house now, so they took a seat on the front steps.

“I have an idea,” Kurt said.

Blaine raised an eyebrow. “You’ll pay a girl to go with me?”

“No,” Kurt said, rolling his eyes. “I don’t have enough money for that type of proposition.”

“Oh, that one hurt, right to the heart,” Blaine said dramatically.

“Shut up and let me speak.”

“Fine,” Blaine said, folding his hands in his lap.

“Next weekend my mom’s going up to my grandma’s to shop. Maybe I could convince her to take your mom with her and then we could go into the city to go to the movies together.”

“Why would we go to the city to go to the movies?” Blaine said, not following Kurt’s thought process at all.

“Well, it’ll be fancier that way. More like a date.”

“Oh,” Blaine said, starting to catch up.

“And no one knows us in the city, and we won’t run into anyone and we can just have fun with each other.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like a real date, we can’t … I don’t know. I’m sorry. I’m being negative, I’ll stop.”

“Oh come on, even if that’s true, it’ll still be more fun that just going to the movies around here, you know?”

“Yeah. You’re right. Okay. That sounds like fun,” Blaine said.

“Good. And I could try to find a girl for you for the dance?” Kurt offered.

“No, I don’t really want to go. I’d much rather hold off and just go on our date,” Blaine said, smiling sweetly at Kurt, his sour mood crumbling.

“I’m glad you’re starting to see things my way,” Kurt said, smiling back.

The rest of the week was long and boring. Luckily Kurt convinced his mom to ask Blaine’s mom to go with her upstate and Blaine’s mom said yes. The boys were free and clear for a Saturday afternoon and they wouldn’t even have to lie to their moms. 

Unfortunately for Blaine, Friday night was basically interminable. 

“Why are you moping around the house?” his mom asked. 

“There was a Sadie Hawkins dance at school tonight and no one invited me,” Blaine explained, hamming it up a bit in hopes that his mother would offer to make him some type of soothing dessert. Her answer to many of life’s troubles often came in the form of sugary treats.

“Aw, my poor boy,” she said, kissing the side of his head and smoothing his hair. “Do you want to bake some cookies with your old mom?”

Blaine’s face lit up. “That sounds like a perfect idea.”

As if that wasn’t perfect enough, the next day dawned warm and sunny, particularly given that it was November. Their moms left around ten and they said they wouldn’t be back until after dinner, but that they left some food for the boys to warm up in the oven.

And with that, they were gone and Kurt and Blaine got ready to go.

It was nice to be together. They were only recently allowed to go into the city alone and their moms always wanted very exact details about where they were going and how long they would be gone. But today they didn’t have to worry about any of that.

On the train, Blaine finally got up the courage to ask Kurt how the dance went the night before.

“It was fine,” Kurt said.

“That’s it? After everything, it was just fine?”

“Well, let’s see. Quinn looked gorgeous, we sat a table with mostly her friends and their dates who were either football players or older than me and I felt fairly out of my league in that respect. We danced, which was the best part. Someone spiked the punch and pretty much everyone was drunk by the time the night was over.”

“Were you drunk?”

“You know I hate punch,” Kurt said.

Blaine grinned. “Was Quinn drunk?”

“Yeah, a little bit. She um, she kissed me.”

“Really?” Blaine asked, his heart constricting. What if Kurt preferred Quinn kisses to Blaine kisses?

“Well, she tried. She was drunk enough that she missed my lips and collided with my nose and then we giggled for a few minutes and that was it.”

Blaine nodded.

“It really wasn’t that big of a deal, but I wanted you to know,” Kurt said.

Blaine swallowed heavily.

“Seriously Blaine. I would have much rather,” he paused, looking around at the other train passengers before leaning close to Blaine’s ear. “I would have much rather it was you.”

Blaine felt better then, like he could breathe.

“You’re better than ten Quinns,” Kurt said.

When they arrived in the city, Blaine easily put the conversation out of his mind. They were going to see South Pacific on one of the greatest movie screens in the country and they were both so excited. 

They selected the most out of the way seats in the theater, not because they were going to try anything, they certainly would never kiss in public or anything, they weren’t lunatics, but because it felt more private that way. More like a date, even if it really couldn’t be a date.

As they waited for the movie to begin, Blaine looked around, taking in the detail work on the high ceilings.

“This is nothing like the theaters in Queens,” he said.

“I know,” Kurt agreed, eating a handful of popcorn.

The lights went down soon after that and there was no one anywhere near them in the theater. Blaine looked around multiple times, making sure that no one would see him before hooking his pinky with Kurt’s.

“That is quite the move,” Kurt said, pitching his voice low with his mouth up to Blaine’s ear.

Blaine blushed. 

Kurt threaded the fingers together, but Blaine felt uncomfortable and couldn’t pay enough attention to the movie so a few minutes later he took his hand back and kept it in his coat pockets for the duration of the film.

On the way home, Kurt was quiet. 

And when they got to Kurt’s house, where dinner was waiting for them in the fridge, Kurt continued to be quiet.

“Why are you mad at me?” Blaine asked when he couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m not.”

“Of course you are. You’re mad that I didn’t want to hold our hand. But the thing is I always want to hold you hand. But there, in public, it was like… I felt like there was a gigantic spotlight on us.”

“There wasn’t,” Kurt said sharply.

“I know, but I can’t help how I feel. It was like a knot formed in the pit of my stomach.”

Kurt huffed and rolled his eyes.

“Seriously, Kurt. What if someone had seen us holding hands?”

“I would have said that you were a big fraidy-cat and I was just trying to calm your nerves.”

“That might have worked in a scary movie, but there’s nothing particularly frightening in South Pacific.”

This time Kurt sighed more resignedly and sat at the table. “I know. I guess I just wanted it to really be like a date. Quinn and I got to hold hands whenever we wanted last night, but I didn’t want to hold her hand, I wanted to hold your hand. And it seemed like our only chance to do that would be in the movie theater.”

Blaine smiled. “I only want to hold your hand too.”

The cooking timer beeped and Blaine stood to get the casserole out of the oven.

“It’s like playing house,” Kurt said.

“Maybe someday we’ll really get to play house. And live together and cook for each other and hold hands whenever we want.”

“And kiss too?” Kurt asked.

“And kiss. And … other stuff,” Blaine said, blushing.

“I like the sound of this other stuff,” Kurt said, his cheeks crimson.

“It might happen,” Blaine said.

“It might,” Kurt agreed. “Someday.”


	11. You Were On My Mind (September, 1965)

Kitty and Blaine were on their fourth date, this time he took her to a little Italian place near his office that was far more romantic at night than it was during the day.

They talked and laughed and really enjoyed each other’s company. Kitty regaled him with stories from the typing pool that was she was in. The hot gossip recently was that one of the other women was pregnant with the CFO’s baby.

“But she’s not,” Kitty said. “Either she’s lying to get attention, or the girls are lying because they hate her.”

“I had no idea so much was going on in the typing pool,” Blaine said.

“Oh, I’m sure it’s just as bad where you’re interning. Putting forty women in a room together for eight hours a day can only breed gossip. And a lot of infighting. And crying. Oh, the crying.”

They shared a slice of tiramisu and then took a walk together with no particular destination in mind, just enjoying each other’s company and the nice September air.

He always brought her all the way back to Kurt’s place at the end of their dates, no matter where the date started out. Sometimes he would stop by his mom’s house for a visit or even to stay the night. And this date was ending the same way. 

When they got onto the street, Kitty stopped Blaine at the corner.

“Look, I know you have a reputation to uphold as some kind of old fashioned gentleman, but I would like to know if you’re ever planning on kissing me,” she said coyly with a raise of her eyebrow.

Blaine gulped. He’d never kissed anyone besides Kurt. The thought of kissing Kitty wasn’t entirely unattractive though. She was very funny and bold, but had a sweet side that had finally just started coming out. And there was something about the way she looked up at him in the soft street light that made him want to kiss her.

“You don’t have to, but I figured it’d be worth asking about your intentions,” she said with a cool shrug.

“My intentions?” Blaine asked, getting past his earlier shock. “My intentions, Kitty, are that you have told me yourself you’re not interested in marriage. I’m not entirely sure I even knew we were going on dates, so how was I to know that you wanted to be kissed?”

“You’re a ridiculous man with a considerable amount of affectations, but I like that about you.”

He took his pocket watch out to check the time.

“Affectation!” Kitty cried, loud enough for a dog to start barking in the yard closest to them.

Blaine rolled his eyes. “Are we allowed to keep walking now?” he asked, gesturing towards the sidewalk ahead.

She pushed him playfully. “Come on, Blaine.”

He grinned and pushed her back with his fingertips. “Come on, Kitty,” he said, having far more fun with her than he ever really dreamed possible.

“If you don’t kiss me soon, I’m going to assume you have such bad halitosis-” her speech was interrupted as Blaine swooped in and captured her mouth.

Kissing Kitty was something new and not entirely unpleasant. He missed Kurt’s height and found it a bit annoying to have to lean over so far. But her lips were soft and not too wet and not too dry. Blaine put his arms around her waist and she brought her hands up his back.

He breathed out a loud breath through his nose, surprised by how intense everything felt, and she pulled away.

“What was that?” she asked, her face contorted into a look of vague disgust.

“Breathing?”

“No, it sounded like a laugh.” She crossed her arms and looked awfully young to Blaine in that moment. He wasn’t entirely sure his brain was keeping up with whatever was happening. One minute they were kissing and the next minute she was angry.

He shook his head. “What?”

“Are you laughing at the way I kiss?” she asked, backing away further, moving her hands to her hips, changing quickly from defense to offense.

“Of course not, Kitty,” he said. 

Her face was sad and serious, her eyes searching his. “You swear?”

“I swear. I’m not exactly an expert on kissing.”

“What do you mean?”

Blaine blushed and was happy that Kitty wouldn’t be able to see it in the dim light. “I’ve only ever kissed one person before.” He was careful to use the word person, but sincerely hoped Kitty wouldn’t notice.

“Really?” she asked, tipping her head a bit, as if that would help her see him better.

“Why would I lie about something like that?” Blaine asked, tipping his chin up, feeling uncomfortable with the whole conversation.

“I suppose you wouldn’t,” she said, and then pursed her lips, before sighing through her nose. “I’ve kissed two boys only, and I thought maybe you knew, like Quinn told Kurt and Kurt told you and you were…”

“Laughing,” Blaine supplied, understanding dawning on his features. “I would never laugh at you Kitty,” he promised, drawing her towards him by her waist.

“I’m happy to hear that. So happy, in fact that I’ll even allow you to take me on another date. And I suppose you may even call me your girlfriend.”

“So many favors! You are so benevolent Kitty,” Blaine said sarcastically. They walked the few hundred feet to Kurt’s house. Blaine looked at his own childhood home just beyond it. It was only 10 pm, he might stop in by his mom when he finished these proceedings with Kitty.

“I am,” she said, swishing her hands back and forth through her skirt and preening.

“Excellent. So next weekend?”

“Next weekend,” she said, leaning slightly up and kissing Blaine again. She ran up the steps then and waved at the door. 

He stood on the sidewalk, touching his fingers to his lips for a moment, happy and at peace with the knowledge that kissing someone besides Kurt could feel good.

The door to Kurt’s house opened just as he was about to climb the steps to his own. Blaine turned and was not surprised to see Kurt standing on the walkway in front of his house. Blaine turned and trotted over to him.

“Hi,” Blaine said, happy to see his friend, but not in the same way he usually was. Kitty was at the forefront of his thoughts, Kitty and her sharp wit and her cool smiles. 

“Hey.”

“How are you?” Blaine asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets and feeling awkward. He never felt awkward like this around Kurt. He wasn’t sure what to do with the feeling.

“Did you have a nice date?”

“You know, I really did,” Blaine admitted. “Kitty’s a great girl.”

“She is,” Kurt agreed.

Blaine could see something simmering under Kurt’s cool exterior and he didn’t want to get into it with him tonight. He was having a really pleasant night and he was feeling comfortable in his own skin. Whatever Kurt was about to say had the potential to ruin all of it.

If he could have put his hand over Kurt’s mouth and stopped him from saying anything else, to stop the torrent of words that were sure to follow, Blaine would have. He would have done anything to keep this feeling. 

“You shouldn’t lead her on,” Kurt said.

“And there it is,” Blaine responded.

“There what is?”

“Your jealousy.”

Kurt crossed his arms. “I’m not jealous.”

“Then what are you?”

“I’m trying to protect Kitty.”

“Ha!” Blaine laughed mirthlessly.

“You’re just going to hurt her, you know it. You’re doing this for purely selfish reasons, trying to prove something, trying to show the world that you’re normal or something.”

Blaine’s eyes went wide and his jaw dropped. “Fuck you.”

“Been there and done that,” Kurt said. “Do you really think Kitty could satisfy you that way?”

“You’re gross. Why are you being gross?” Blaine asked, shocked by how Kurt was acting. It had to be jealousy fueling such grotesque statements.

Blaine was about to volley back when a window opened across the street.

“You two want to quit your yapping!” Miss Sylvester called, her hair in rollers and her face unamused. “Some of us are trying to sleep.”

Both boys waved and smiled and apologized sheepishly.

“Let’s go… in the garage,” Kurt said.

He and Blaine walked up the driveway and into the garage. Kurt’s car was parked inside and there wasn’t a ton of room so Blaine hopped up on the trunk.

Kurt stood on the side and crossed his arms. 

“Where were we?” Blaine asked.

“You were calling me gross.”

“You had called me abnormal.”

“Listen, I don’t want to fight with you about this,” Kurt said.

“Then why did you pick a fight with me?” 

Kurt leaned his head against the wall and sighed before kicking off and moving closer to Blaine.

“I am jealous,” he admitted.

“Shocking,” Blaine said sarcastically.

“Would you just listen to me?”

“Fine, sorry, of course.”

Kurt hopped on the trunk of the car next to Blaine and stared at his hands.

“I’m not jealous that you’re with Kitty, I’m jealous that we could never do these things together. I’m jealous we could never go on dates, or have a future that would allow us to be seen outdoors together as anything but friends.”

“I know,” Blaine said.

“So I lashed out. At you. And that’s not fair.”

“It’s not fair, but none of this is fair.”

“No matter what, you really are my best friend on earth and I’m sorry I said you were abnormal.”

“And I’m sorry I said you were gross.”

“Thank you. Although I was being a little bit gross,” Kurt admitted.

Blaine smiled and took Kurt’s hand, squeezing it.

“So you’re date was good?”

“It really was. We kissed, finally.”

“Good, she’s been complaining to Quinn for a week that you hadn’t kissed her yet.”

Blaine laughed. “It’s not perfect Kurt, I’ll never feel the same way about her as I feel about you, but it’s good and it’s fun. And if I can’t have you, I might as well try something else. I’m not leading her on, I’m testing the water.”

Kurt nodded. “I know.”

“And the water feels pretty good. So if you could try not to be so hard on me about it, or make me feel guilty, I might be able to have a future with this girl.”

Kurt nodded.

“And since Quinn and Kitty are cousins, we’ll still get to see each other all the time.”

Kurt smiled at that.

“And our kids can be friends,” Blaine said.

“You’re already thinking about having kids with Kitty?”

Blaine shrugged. “I don’t know that’s just where the mind goes. I could imagine it.”

“Well, you’re far more serious about this than I realized and I’m sorry I basically attacked you earlier.”

“It’s okay. It was bound to happen. We haven’t exactly talked about this and I guess I didn’t really want to acknowledge how much I like her and … make you feel bad. Because she’s still basically nothing compared to you.”

Kurt pretended to stab himself in the heart. “Blaine the things you say when you’re being dramatic.”

“I’m not being even slightly dramatic. But I need to move on. You’re married, you have a two year old daughter, you should probably have another kid soon. I need to keep moving with my life too. And if it’s not with Kitty then with someone else. I’ve come to terms with the fact that no one will compare to you, but that doesn’t mean I should hole up somewhere and live like a hermit.”

“I would hate for you to live like a hermit.” Kurt thought back to the day he went to visit Blaine last winter and that’s exactly what he’d been acting like, a hermit. He wanted more for Blaine, he just wished he was the one who could give it to him. 

“And Kitty is great, and we get along, and she has ties to you and your family,” Blaine summed up, pleased with himself for staying afloat in the argument. It was the burgeoning lawyer in him. 

“I do like the sound of your logic.”

“Not to mention that someday I’ll have functions to attend with a law firm and I’m sure it’ll be nicer to have a standing date.”

“How much longer will you be in school?” Kurt asked, not meaning to change the subject, but he suddenly couldn’t remember.

“Thanks to the fact that I’ve been taking a ridiculous number of courses each semester and summer classes, I’ll be done in June. Then I’ll have to study for the bar. Which will cut into my time with Kitty, but I’m really looking forward to getting it all over with.” He pulled his hand out of Kurt’s and hopped down from the car.

Kurt hopped off too and they stood facing each other.

“I should be going,” Blaine said. “I think my mom’s probably still up and I might as well say hi since I’m already out here.”

Kurt nodded.

Blaine turned and left with a casual wave behind him and Kurt tried not to feel sad that he didn’t get a kiss that night like Kitty did.


	12. Put Your Head On My Shoulder (June, 1960)

The morning of Kurt and Blaine’s high school graduation dawned hot and sultry and far more humid than you would normally expect for June. They just about melted as they sat through yet another rehearsal for the ceremony and they weren’t even in their graduation gowns yet. The only thing they could hope was that as the day wore on and the sun lowered in the sky the temperature would at least get more bearable. 

They walked home just past noon, and quickly realized they had nothing to do until 5 o’clock that night when they needed to get ready to head back to the school.

It was the first time in weeks that they had time to themselves. Between parties and the prom and finals the boys had very little time together. And remarkably Blaine’s mom would be at work until 4 and Kurt’s mom was traveling upstate to pick up his grandmother and bring her back for graduation and the ensuing party.

“What should we do?” Blaine asked as they walked.

“Right now? Or in general with our lives?” 

“Yeah, right now, you want to… come over?” Blaine offered, ignoring Kurt’s sarcasm and hoping that the meaning would be implied.

When they entered Blaine’s house it was like an oven. They threw open all of the windows and set the fans whirling. All that activity quickly tired them out so they made lunch and retired to the coolest part of the house. The sun wasn’t quite so intense in living room.

They sat around drinking iced tea and inhaling salami sandwiches while they watched a soap opera. Kurt tried to explain what was happening to Blaine, it was the soap his mom followed, but Blaine could hardly keep an eye on the TV. His focus kept going back to Kurt. 

Kurt and his perfect mouth. Kurt and his flawless skin. Kurt and the little drop of sweat on his hairline.

“Wanna go up to my room?” Blaine asked without preamble.

Kurt looked at him, a bit surprised, but undeniably happy. “Yes,” he breathed. 

They stumbled up the stairs, and Blaine closed his bedroom door. He opened the windows but pulled down the shades and turned his ceiling fan on. Kurt put a record on softly. 

“It’s hot right?” Blaine asked, suddenly feeling unsure. He and Kurt had messed around a few times since that one New Year’s Eve. They didn’t always have time to enjoy each other, but they would often find just enough time to get each other off. Blaine had other ideas today. Today seemed like a good day to take their time and to explore new options.

“Really hot,” Kurt agreed.

“Maybe we should, um, I don’t know if this is something you might be into, but we could, um,” Blaine paused searching for just the right phrase.

“Get naked?” Kurt supplied.

Blaine laughed self-consciously. “Yeah, basically that.”

“I like that idea.” 

Kurt pulled his shirt over his head and Blaine stood there looking at him for a second before taking his own shirt off. They’d been shirtless in front of each other plenty of times before. But every time they messed around it was usually dark out, and they couldn’t exactly stare at each other when they were swimming or in the locker room at school. This felt like the first moment they could look at each other, without shame, without worry.

Kurt moved towards Blaine and touched his appendectomy scar, running his thumb over it gently, feeling the way the skin puckered. 

“I was so scared that day,” Kurt told him, looking at the scar. 

“I know, I could tell,” Blaine said. He put a hand on the bare skin of Kurt’s waist, needing to touch him too. 

“I never really thought much about losing you before that.”

“It was just an appendectomy Kurt. And we were only ten, I don’t think ten year old boys really think like that.”

“Yeah, but since then, I’ve always felt like everyday needed to count with you. Because you just never know. Particularly given our… circumstances.”

“I don’t even know what to say to that,” Blaine admitted.

“You could try something equally romantic,” Kurt said, with an air of self deprecation.

Blaine stared at Kurt’s eyes and let the first thing he could think of pop out of his mouth. “You are beautiful.”

“That works,” Kurt said with a tiny grin. 

“And sexy,” Blaine said, dropping his eyes bashfully.

“I think you are too,” Kurt said quietly into Blaine’s ear. 

They swayed slightly to the song, and moved closer, pressing their naked chests together, Kurt hooking a thumb into the belt loop of Blaine’s pants to keep him there. 

“ _Put your head on my shoulder_ ,” Paul Anka crooned from the turntable. “ _Hold me in your arms_.”

They slow-danced and it felt so nice to be alone and close that Blaine’s nerves were somewhat soothed. But he was happy when Kurt took the reigns.

“May I?” Kurt said, gesturing towards Blaine’s belt.

“Yeah,” Blaine said, barely breathing. Graduation practice felt like it had been a hundred years ago compared to this moment. The warm glow of the room and the heat of the day and the quiet music felt like something from someone else’s life. And the strong hands that were pulling off Blaine’s belt and lowering his trousers felt like every dream he’d ever had.

Blaine stepped out of his pants and said, “Now you.”

He ceremoniously undid Kurt’s belt and drew his trousers down, taking a moment to look at the way Kurt’s cock looked in his briefs. 

Then they stood there facing each other wearing only underwear.

“So,” Kurt said. “What did you have in mind once you got me up here and naked? Was there a plan or did you just want to see how far we could take this?”

“I was thinking,” Blaine paused, licking his lips, trying so hard to calm his nerves. No matter how many times he and Kurt fooled around, there was always a moment where it felt like his heart was constricting and his stomach was in knots.

Kurt took his hand and squeezed it. “You’re cute when you’re nervous.”

“Thanks,” Blaine said, and buoyed by Kurt’s words, he pressed on. “I was thinking I could… put my mouth on you. Like, on your…”

“Like a blow job?” Kurt asked, getting straight to the point.

“Yes.”

“You were too embarrassed to say blow job?”

“I don’t know!” Blaine exclaimed. “I just don’t want to do anything wrong.”

“I promise you are doing everything right,” Kurt said, grabbing Blaine’s hands and smiling at him.

Blaine kissed him then, sweetly and oddly chaste considering what he was about to do, before kneeling in front of Kurt. He was poised to draw Kurt’s briefs down, when Kurt stopped him.

“I don’t think I can handle this standing up,” Kurt said, his voice breathy and his heart beating in his ears.

Blaine looked up at him and frowned a little, looking concerned and chastised. 

“My knees already feel sort of weak, I’m not sure I could stand,” Kurt admitted.

Blaine’s face relaxed and they moved to the bed. “You don’t have to do this for me,” Blaine said, before getting started. “This is just something I want to do for you, don’t think that you have to…”

“I will,” Kurt said.

Blaine held himself over Kurt, his arms on either side of his torso and kissed him, longer and harder this time, much less chaste and suddenly much more sure of himself. He trailed kisses down his neck and his abdomen, Kurt giggling at the way Blaine’s breath tickled.

“Not the best time to laugh at me,” Blaine said.

“Tickles is all.”

The muscles in Blaine’s arms were shaking now from holding himself up and from his nerves. He leaned back on his haunches and then he drew Kurt’s briefs off and tossed them on the floor.

“I love you, Blaine,” Kurt whispered.

The breath went out of Blaine. Kurt’s confession was so unexpected.

“I love you too,” Blaine said, as soon as he got his voice back. 

“Good,” Kurt said, kissing Blaine’s cheek. It was so chaste compared to what they were in the middle of and yet it still sent chills down Blaine’s spine.

Blaine moved to find a comfortable position and then mouthed at Kurt’s cock. Kurt’s hand immediately found Blaine’s hair and he closed his eyes, immersing himself in the feeling. 

It was good, amazing even, Kurt tried to hold on for as long as he could, but it ended all too soon, Blaine swallowing quickly and keeping his sheets relatively unscathed.

“Was that okay?” he asked, crawling up next to Kurt to lay his head on his chest.

“Yeah,” Kurt sighed dreamily. He could tell Blaine had more to say, Blaine always had more to say. “No more talking yet.”

After a few minutes, Kurt sat up. “It’s your turn.”

“I swear Kurt, you really-” Blaine started to say.

“I do. Because it’s amazing Blaine, you’ll see. This was way better than anything else. Why were we waiting so long to do this?”

“I was too big of a wimp to bring it up before now,” Blaine admitted.

“I’d been thinking about it too, though. So it’s just as much my fault as yours.”

Kurt made sure Blaine felt as worshiped as Blaine had made Kurt feel. To kiss him long and to touch him tenderly, to show him how loved he was and how deserving he was.

Blaine held back a bit, finding his hands bunched in his sheets and biting his lip to keep from making too much noise as Kurt licked and sucked.

His breath came in quick gasp as he got close and much like Kurt he felt all too quickly it was over. His eyes slid closed and his whole body relaxed.

“All the other kids who are getting drunk this afternoon are totally missing out,” he said to Kurt.

“There’s no way they’re having as much fun as we are,” Kurt agreed.

Blaine glanced at the clock and groaned. It was already going on three. They needed to clean up and get ready for the ceremony.

“I guess I better be going,” Kurt said, frowning.

“Or,” Blaine said, and impish grin growing on his face.

“Or we don’t graduate from high school?”

“No, or you stay and we take a shower together. We have plenty of time.”

After their shower Kurt went home and changed into his graduation suit and Blaine got ready, dressing himself and combing down his hair. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face if he tried.

Everyone arrived home soon after that, Blaine’s mom and Kurt’s mom and grandma. The ladies all admired how dapper the boys looked, how grownup. And they really felt grown up for the first time. Like they had made adult decisions and done adult things. They shared a multitude of secret smiles all night long. 

Kurt watched with proud tears in his eyes as Blaine marched up to get his diploma and when it was Kurt’s turn Blaine felt the same way. 

Their moms insisted on picture after picture when the ceremony was over. The boys alone, the boys together, the boys with all variation of friends.

The party was at Kurt’s for both of them and it was the usual parade of neighbors and family members. Everyone was slipping them cash and later on they took a few minutes to count it together in Kurt’s bedroom.

“Gosh, this is a lot of money,” Blaine said. 

“It is.”

“Your grandma gave me twenty dollars!” Blaine exclaimed opening the card. “Geez, Kurt what are we going to do with all this?

“Buy lots of books, go into the city, see shows, go to the movies,” Kurt listed.

“Maybe save some for the fall too. College is going to be expensive.”

Kurt nodded. “We have a lot of choices though.”

“We do.”

“And we’ll do it all together.”

“I like the sound of that,” Blaine said.


	13. These Boots Were Made for Walkin' (February, 1965)

As kids and teenagers, Kurt and Blaine always yearned for a blizzard or storm that would snow them in together, stuck for a week just the together, somehow magically without their moms. They could make hot chocolate and roast marshmallows in the fireplace.

It never quite happened when they were kids, in part because living next door to each other meant it was easy enough for one or the other to get home, but also they never had the privacy. They would be snowed in with their moms, and that certainly took the fun out of everything, particularly once they were teenagers.

In the winter of 1965, it seemed like Kurt and Blaine were traveling on opposite and equally fast moving trains, never catching sight of each other, knowing the other was out there, but never having any time to spend together.

Kurt was busy at the advertising firm, designing layouts and moving up at what felt like a snail’s pace, but moving up all the same. His mom moved upstate to stay with his grandmother soon after he and Quinn got married, so they moved into Kurt’s childhood home. It felt like he was either at work, commuting, or tossing and turning, trying to fall asleep. Married life was fine, but he was always worried about something. Sometimes the worries were obvious, an issue at work, Beth had a fever, other times they were more of a nagging at the back of his mind. Those, more often than not, were about Blaine and how little they saw of each other these days.

But Blaine was just as busy. He was going to law school at Fordham, taking as many credits as humanly possible, trying not to drag it out any longer than necessary. He loaded up his class schedule and dove into the work, finding a very cheap studio apartment near campus and hardly ever looking up from his work load. There was no worrying for Blaine, each night he fell into bed exhausted, only to be awoke by his alarm hours later and to start the cycle again. It wasn’t fun, but it was productive and it kept him from thinking about Kurt and Quinn.

That is, until the day Kurt turned up on his doorstep during the first few flakes of what some were calling the biggest snowstorm the city would see in years.

Blaine squinted myopically into the too bright day, the sidewalk already covered in a thin trace of snow.

“Hi,” Kurt said.

“Hello,” Blaine responded. 

“They let us out of work early,” Kurt said, gesturing towards the weather. “They never let us out early, but I guess, the forecast is pretty bad.” Kurt trailed off uncomfortably.

“So you came here?” Blaine asked. “Quite the hike from mid-town.”

“Subway wasn’t exactly crowded.” Then he shrugged. “And I missed you.”

Blaine raised an eyebrow and gestured for Kurt to come into the building. They trotted upstairs and into Blaine’s one room. Kurt hadn’t ever been there before, but he’d had the address, saving it, waiting for Blaine to invite him over, and that invite never coming. 

Before entering he took his shoes off and laid them neatly just inside the doorway not wanting to get the floor wet. He looked around, taking in the details. Blaine’s neatly made bed, the small table piled with books that Blaine had obviously been working at, the closet door hanging open and Kurt noting that few of the clothes even looked familiar at the moment. As though Blaine was a completely different person.

“Can I get you some coffee? Tea?” Blaine offered. It felt oddly formal to offer these things to Kurt. 

Kurt nodded, taking off his hat and coat, hanging them up and running his hand through his hair. “Coffee would be nice.”

Blaine started working in the small kitchenette and Kurt took a seat at the table, glancing over the work, but not taking anything in, half wishing he had just gone home to Quinn and Beth. 

“How’s Beth?” Blaine asked, as though reading his mind.

Kurt smiled. “Growing. She started to crawl since you saw her at Christmas.”

Blaine gasped, realizing that he hadn’t even seen Kurt in nearly two months. He had taken a winter session course, hence why he’d been so busy. It met five days a week and left Blaine’s head spinning. Two days after it finished, the semester started again in earnest and Blaine hadn’t looked back. He’d barely even seen his own mother, and the only reason he did was because she insisted on taking him out for lunch on Sunday afternoon every few weeks.

“Do you,” Blaine struggled, feeling almost dizzy with how much he missed Kurt, how he had been longing for him and denying himself the simple pleasure of Kurt’s company. “Do you have any pictures?” 

“Yeah, I have one in my wallet.”

Blaine exchanged the mug of instant coffee for the wallet sized picture of baby Beth, sitting on the rug in Kurt’s living, the same rug they had first kissed on so many years before. She smiled up at the photographer, looking like she could leap right out of the photo frame and into Blaine’s arms.

“I miss her,” he said, handing the photo back to Kurt who tucked it into his wallet.

“Then you should come see her.”

“I know, I just,” Blaine paused, gesturing at the table. “I have so much to do all the time. I feel like I’m being buried by homework.”

“So bring your homework with you and sit at my dining room table and at least be around,” Kurt said.

“Oh yeah, because I’ll get anything done that way.”

Kurt grimaced at Blaine’s tone.

“I’m sorry, it’s not your fault I’m swamped,” Blaine said, finally taking the other seat at the table.

They chatted awkwardly after that for about another hour, Blaine trying to just act normal, filling Kurt in on school, which was basically his whole life anyway, so he had plenty to say. But he could tell it was all fairly abstract and uninteresting to Kurt.

Kurt gave him the briefest description of what he was doing at work, and told a few cute stories about Beth, but then it was quiet for far too long.

“Is everything going well with you and Quinn?” Blaine asked, feeling like a terrible friend for not asking about Kurt’s wife sooner.

“Yeah, great,” Kurt said honestly. “I mean, it’s not normal, or anything, but it’s good. Comfortable. I think I can speak for both us of when I say that we’re happy.”

Blaine smiled, tight lipped, feeling a lump grow in his throat. And that sentence was exactly why he’d been avoiding Kurt since Christmas. He could see then that they were getting along well, and he didn’t want to begrudge his closest friend his happiness, but he did. And it was so hard for Blaine to deal with, that he would quite frankly rather just ignore the whole situation.

“Well, I guess I better be heading out,” Kurt said, thinking that Blaine was angry with him. He couldn’t be around him any longer.

Blaine nodded, his long eyelashes blinking slowly and fanning against his cheeks. Kurt almost missed it and he would have if had turned around to get his coat just then, but a small tear trickled down Blaine’s face. He tried to wipe it away quickly, but it didn’t work. 

“Blaine?” Kurt said, worry immediately noticeable in his voice. He took hold of Blaine’s wrist before Blaine could turn away in embarrassment.

Blaine opened his eyes and shook his head, sliding his hand in Kurt’s loose grasp.

“I miss you so much and I don’t want you to leave.”

“Oh,” Kurt said, sympathetically. 

“Yeah, oh,” Blaine said, his voice wet. He mopped at his face with his handkerchief. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to start blubbering.”

Kurt moved towards Blaine and Blaine tensed. 

“Calm down,” Kurt said, putting his arms around Blaine, holding him close, showing him, rather than telling him that he was here, he’d got him, he would always have him.

Blaine’s ragged breath was in his ear, but soon enough he relaxed into Kurt’s embrace, bringing his arms around Kurt too and leaning in, as close as possible, wanting to absorb Kurt’s very essence. 

“Everything is … too much right now. I feel like I can barely breathe and that’s sort of how I planned it, because I have to stop thinking about you, but it doesn’t ever feel any better.”

“Why do you have to stop thinking about me?” Kurt asked, rubbing his hands in soothing circles on Blaine’s back.

Blaine pulled away so Kurt could see the unamused look on his face. “Because you’re married? You have a child? We could probably go to jail if someone looked through the window right now? Any of that ringing a bell?”

“Blaine,” Kurt said, tugging him closer, enveloping him, though he did toss a cursory glance to the windows in the room to make sure that the blinds were closed. 

“It’s all so stupid. I’m so tired of my feelings. So I decided to push them down, and ignore them, and keep moving. But it’s not working, it never works.” He blew his nose indelicately, making a great honking noise and Kurt couldn’t help but laugh.

“Fine, laugh at my pain,” Blaine wailed.

“I’m not laughing at your pain,” Kurt said, looking at Blaine affectionately. “It’s going to be okay.”

Blaine rolled his eyes and went over to the kitchen sink to splash water on his face. Then he turned around, expression serious, demeanor much more controlled.

“How do you know? How do you know it’s going to be okay?”

Blaine’s question was like a knife to the gut, but he was luckily saved by the ringing of Blaine’s phone.

“Hello?” he said gruffly, picking it up on the third ring.

“Oh, hey Quinn. No, I’m fine, a bit of … the sniffles. That’s all. Yeah, he’s here.”

Kurt spoke with Quinn quickly and then hung up without much fanfare. He walked over to the window and peaked between the blinds.

He whistled low. “Holy smokes!”

“What?” Blaine asked, feeling a bit whiplashed from the conversation they hadn’t finished.

“It must have snowed three inches since I came up here.”

“Really?” Blaine asked, walking over to Kurt and moving close to him to see out of the same window. “Wow. That was quick.”

“Quinn said I should just stay tonight, she’s got it under control at home.”

“How did she guess you were here?”

“Well, she called the office and no one answered, so she figured I was either here or on my way home. I’ve been saying that I need to see you.”

Blaine’s shoulders drooped. “Can we promise never to go two months without seeing each other ever again?”

Kurt hugged him close. “Of course.”

“I know I’ve been the busy one, but this was awful.”

“For me too,” Kurt said, kissing Blaine’s temple.

Blaine melted into the touch. They hadn’t messed around at all since Kurt got married and his body was quaking with need, being around Kurt made it even worse.

“I don’t want to assume, but you don’t mind if I stay here tonight?” Kurt said, brushing a thumb across Blaine’s cheek tenderly.

Blaine laughed this time. “I don’t mind even a little bit.”

“Good, because these boots were not made for walking, at least not walking in snow,” Kurt said, holding up his expensive looking oxfords.

Blaine nodded in understanding.

“It probably doesn’t help that I bought them second hand and they weren’t quite my size.”

“Pain is beauty or whatever,” Blaine said.

“You’re such a poet,” Kurt said, putting his hands on his hips. “So, what do you propose we do this evening?”

“Kurt it’s barely two in the afternoon, I have hours of studying I needed to get done, and class at four and…” He didn’t get to finish because Kurt had caught his lips in a soft kiss. Blaine’s hands automatically went around Kurt’s neck. “Or I could skip it,” he muttered.

“Or you could skip it,” Kurt breathed.

“Maybe it’ll all get canceled,” Blaine said, pulling Kurt over to his bed and lowering them onto it.

“Maybe life will get canceled,” Kurt agreed, crawling on top of Blaine, kissing him harder.

“Wait, wait.”

“Hmm,” Kurt said, dragging his teeth along Kurt’s neck.

“What does Quinn think…”

“Quinn knows,” Kurt began pointedly. “That sometimes we commit indiscretions.”

Blaine let himself get lost then in Kurt and it was the best decision he’d made in a long, long time.


	14. I Can't Stop Loving You (September, 1961)

The first year of college had been an adjustment for both Blaine and Kurt. It had been easier and more fun than they expected, but meeting so many new people and keeping up with classwork proved a challenge.

Blaine was pretty sure he would have dropped out if it hadn’t been for Kurt. He was a natural social butterfly and he easily could have imagined his grades slipping to the bottom of the barrel without Kurt to yell at him. He might have also drank far too much if Kurt wasn’t there to reign him in.

But they loved school and they loved their classes and mostly they loved each other. Sharing a dorm room on a floor with 38 other boys their age did not leave much privacy. People were awake and noisy at all hours, but they did find time here and there to be together. Even if sometimes it required them to go back to Queens for the day when they knew Kurt’s mom was out or Blaine’s mom was working. They figured it out together.

They also learned more about who they were, and what it meant when two men were sweethearts. Through the grapevine and whispered gossip they learned that there were even secret societies and magazines just for homosexuals. They were very careful about not letting anyone know their personal predilection, but it was nice to hear they weren’t alone.

September of their sophomore year they both signed up for a course on 19th century American Literature with a professor named Hiram Berry. To say the class and the professor were illuminating to them barely even scratched the surface. Kurt and Blaine learned more in the first few weeks of that semester than they probably had their entire lives.

For starters, it was the first time either of them had ever heard that Walt Whitman was a homosexual. There were a few neanderthal hoots from the back of the room, but Professor Berry calmed them down quickly.

“Hold on, folks,” he said. “We can all be more mature than that I think. I want you to take a moment, and consider if knowing his personal preferences changes the meaning or the value of his words.”

“Course it does,” a boy behind Blaine said. “Means he was queer. You can’t trust them.”

Professor Berry made a very serious face and rubbed his chin with his hand. “Interesting. Any other opinions on the matter?”

Blaine knew instinctively that he shouldn’t weigh in, that even though every muscle in his body was screaming to prove that idiot wrong, he knew if he voiced his real opinion, it would be like painting a target on his back.

He swept his eyes away from his professor and decided that later, in office hours, in privacy, perhaps he would tell his professor how he felt. But he couldn’t here, not in front all of these people who believed the very opposite of him. Who hated him for what he was even though they didn’t know what he was.

The class discussion moved on after that, but Blaine couldn’t stop thinking about it. He and Kurt discussed it later, sitting in the semi-privacy of their dorm room, using hushed voices. They talked about the bigotry of the people in the class and how disheartening it was.

“I’m going to see Professor Berry at office hours tomorrow. I would like to talk to him about it and hear his thoughts,” Blaine said.

“Maybe I should come.”

“Or maybe you should go alone another time and we can compare what he says.”

“Why?”

“I think Professor Berry might … be like us.”

“Oh. Oh, that would make a lot of sense,” Kurt said. “But why go alone?”

Blaine shrugged. “If he isn’t like us, then I can warn you and you won’t go in and talk to him the same way I do.”

Kurt squinted and rolled that thought over in his head. “I think I see what you mean. But you really do enjoy making things far more dramatic and convoluted than necessary.”

“It’s a gift,” Blaine said.

The next day at office hours, Blaine was nervous when he knocked on the professor’s door. His voice told Blaine to enter and when he did Professor Berry smiled.

“Don’t tell me,” he said, pressing his fingers to his forehead. “Do not tell me”

“What?” Blaine asked, taking the seat across from him, but sitting on the very edge in case he needed run away from this obvious mad man in a hurry.

“Your name, your name. I know it,” he huffed, pinching at the bridge of his nose. And then looked up and grinned. “Blake Henderson!”

“Close. Blaine Anderson.”

“I told you not to tell me!” he exclaimed, pumping his fist in frustration.

“Um, sorry?”

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I assume you’re here for other reasons besides forcing me to guess your name.”

“Um, well,” Blaine started. Then he glanced down at the professor’s desk. There was a One Magazine peeking out from under a folder. The professor saw where Blaine was looking.

He laughed uncomfortably and slid it out of sight. “Ha. Just doing a little, ah, um, research.”

“I kind of wanted to talk to you about that,” Blaine said.

“Please don’t mention you saw that,” Professor Berry said, his voice quiet and strained.

“Of course not.”

“A lot of people would be very upset. I can’t even believe I was negligent enough to leave it on my desk. Bad things can happen to people who have a copy in their possession, bad, bad things,” he said. His face was so serious.

“I’m like that too!” Blaine exclaimed, desperately wanting his professor to not look so upset.

“What?”

“Like the magazine,” Blaine said, gesturing towards where it had been before Professor Berry had hid it.

“You… prefer… men?” he asked, very slowly, dragging out each syllable as if he was waiting for Blaine to stop him. 

“At the moment just one man. I can’t say I’ve been particularly attracted to other men yet, but I’m sure that could happen in the future. But right now it’s man, singular. My childhood best friend to be exact,” Blaine babbled.

“Kirk Humfeld?” the professor asked.

“Kurt Hummel, but yes. Close enough.”

“There was something about the two of you I couldn’t put my finger on and that usually means…” he trailed off, letting the sentence drop, but Blaine got the gist.

“Anyway,” Blaine said, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. This was not at all what he was expecting from this meeting.

“Ah, yes. Anyway. Was there something you needed?”

“I actually came to tell you my true opinion about Walt Whitman that I was too afraid to say in class yesterday,” Blaine said.

Professor Berry nodded. “I think I could hazard a guess about your real opinion of Walt Whitman and I would assume it varies from your classmate’s.”

Blaine nodded, feeling more relaxed. “Do you think it would be possible for me to borrow that magazine? Kurt and I don’t really know much about… anything really. We didn’t think much about there being other people like us.”

“Of course, of course. I have other copies at home, I could bring you another next week? Same time, same place?”

“Thank you so much, professor,” Blaine stood, extending his hand to shake the professor’s.

“And Blaine,” he said just before Blaine exited. “Next time, bring your friend Kurt, okay?”

“Yes, sir,” Blaine said.

Kurt and Blaine devoured that issue of One, reading every word, gleaning everything they could from the pages, feeling more and more sophisticated and educated with each article. 

When they returned to Professor Berry the next week, he looked out the door when they entered and seeing no one around, he quickly closed it and locked it tight. He had several back issues of One for them and they enjoyed a long conversation about what the secret societies were doing and what bars and clubs would be friendly to the boys.

“A lot of those clubs are mafia owned,” Professor Berry explained to the boys. “They can pay the police off and make twice as much money on drinks with half as much liquor because we’re all so desperate for a place to be together.”

“That sounds sort of terrible,” Blaine said.

“It is and it isn’t. We all sort of are desperate for a place to be together. Leroy and I, have I told you about Leroy? No? I’ll get to that. But he and I are just so happy to be someplace with other people where we can dance and show affection and feel unguarded that it doesn’t matter you can’t really get a good buzz going from the water downed booze.”

Kurt and Blaine smiled at each other. They liked the sound of that. And it still didn’t take much in the way of alcohol to get them tipsy.

“So, tell us about Leroy,” Kurt said.

“Well we met in World War II. We’d all go out for a night on the town looking for women and end up with each other instead. It would happen just about every night.”

“Did you know?” Blaine asked. “I’m sorry, this is too personal.”

“No, no. Ask away. I wish I had someone like me back then,” he said with a smirk.

“Did you already know that you preferred men?”

“Yes and no. I knew there wasn’t a girl anywhere for miles that held a candle to the lifeguard at the indoor pool at the YMHA. But I wasn’t sure that meant anything. I wasn’t sure that meant there wasn’t a girl outside that range.”

Kurt and Blaine nodded in unison, they could listen to this man talk for hours.

“What about you two? How did you know?” he asked.

“Gosh,” Kurt said. “It’s a little embarrassing, but I was about ten. Blaine had appendicitis and I would have given my left hand to be with him in the hospital and to take away all the pain and the days he spent so week. I just…” Kurt looked over at Blaine who was smiling.

“Now who’s being dramatic,” Blaine said, taking Kurt’s hand and giving it a squeeze, before remembering they were in front of their professor and quickly putting his hands in his pockets and smiling sheepishly.

“No need to hide your affection in front of me,” Professor Berry said, sitting back in his chair. “Anyway, you were saying?”

“I guess I knew back then, that I loved him differently and more than I technically should love even my best friend in the whole entire world.”

“And you?” the professor asked, turning towards Blaine. “If you, ah, don’t mind sharing. You certainly don’t have to. I realize only now this could be a touchy subject, particularly if you didn’t love him quite as early.”

Blaine chuckled. “Well, yeah, not that early. Probably sometime during our sophomore or junior year of high school. I don’t think I noticed how much I liked you until I kissed you.”

“I feel like we’re in therapy,” Kurt said. “Sorry that got so personal, Professor.”

“Nonsense, I started it. I love hearing about young love,” he said, steepling his fingers. “But let’s get back to business. Would you boys like to learn more? You don’t have to, but I could make sure you know where the next meeting of the Mattachine Society is. Or perhaps you’d rather seek out a bar or lounge? That might be more your speed for a first outing.”

“Would you be there?” Kurt asked.

“I could be if you wanted me to be,” the professor said.

“I think that would be more comfortable, Professor.”

“If we’re going to see each other socially, you really should call me Hiram,” he said.

“We’ll try,” Kurt promised.

“I just have one more thing to say, and this is crucial and of the utmost importance.”

Both boys leaned forward.

“You must never tell anyone about me. I could quickly lose my job here and if they knew that Leroy and I weren’t just roommates fixing up a duplex in Brooklyn. Things could get bad for me, very bad, very fast, indeed.”

“Of course, sir,” Blaine said seriously.

“Yes, of course. We appreciate you putting your neck on the line for us to begin with. We understand that this requires a lot of trust on your part and a lot of prudence on ours,” Kurt said.

“Thank you so much,” he said sincerely.

“No really, thank you,” Blaine said, standing to shake the professor’s hand. They’d been there for nearly an hour. “We’ve taken up enough of your time.”

“I do need to be getting to my next class, but this was thoroughly enjoyable and I hope you’ll come back again.”

“We definitely will.”

“I’ll be sure to keep you well stocked in magazines,” the professor said. He surreptitiously unlocked the door and ushered them out.

“Be careful out in the world boys,” he said. “But there are wonderful people out there if you give them a chance.”

He winked at them before closing the door.

They stood there staring at each other, a giggle rising in Kurt’s throat. Blaine couldn’t hold his laugh in and it erupted in bark of laugh turned cough.

“Come on,” Kurt whispered. “We need to get back to our room so we can thoroughly discuss every last word of what happened in there.”

“I can’t believe…” Blaine stopped himself, shaking his head. “Home, now.”

They started walking towards the dorm. Outside everything seemed different. There was a whole other world for them out there somewhere if you just knew where to look, and Professor Berry was going to teach them how to find it.


	15. When a Man Loves a Woman (November, 1967)

“Blaine and I have news,” Kitty said as they finished off dessert with Kurt and Quinn one Saturday night in early November. The two couples often got together on Saturday nights now that Blaine and Kitty had bought Blaine’s mom’s house next door. 

Kitty looked at Blaine and squeezed his hand. “We’re pregnant!”

“Oh my goodness!” Quinn said, choking ever so slightly on her cup of coffee and giving Blaine a wide look of disbelief.

“Wow,” Kurt said, smiling. It was strained but no one noticed, not even Blaine. He was so swept up in the moment and how happy Kitty looked to announce the news to their closest friends. Blaine knew Kurt might not be thrilled with this, he knew it, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. They’d kept the fighting and the indiscretions to a minimum since Blaine got married, but it didn’t stop there from being an undercurrent of tension running between them at times.

Blaine squeezed Kitty’s shoulders and kissed her cheek. Quinn stood up, a bit robotically Kurt was happy to notice, at least he wasn’t the only one blindsided by this announcement. She walked over to the other side of the table and hugged first Kitty and then Blaine. Kurt leaned back in his chair for a second, pretending to stretch, but really needing to gain his composure and then he too went and congratulated the couple.

Blaine knew things were bad when Kurt shook his hand rather than pulling him into a hug. They always hugged, they were never shy about hugging even in front of Kitty. She had told Blaine more than once that she found their affection quite endearing.

Blaine held Kurt’s eyes as they shook hand trying to read his mind or at least gauge his mood, but he had his poker face on.

“We told my parents last weekend,” Kitty was saying. “And we called Blaine’s mom earlier, so we knew you guys were the next people we had to tell.”

Quinn and Kitty cleared dessert and then they brought Beth upstairs for her bath. Kitty had always loved Beth, but now that she was going to be a mom herself, she seemed to have a renewed interest in everything Quinn did for her daughter.

When the wives were gone upstairs, Kurt and Blaine retired to the living room. 

“Brandy?” Kurt offered.

“No thanks, I’m fine,” Blaine said as he took a seat on the couch.

Kurt gave him a look but got himself a glass, he felt like he might need it to forge through this conversation.

“So say it,” Blaine said when Kurt settled in the chair across from him.

Kurt shook his head and looked out the window. There was nothing to see but the reflection of the room, it had been dark already for hours.

“You’re just going to stew? You have nothing to say?”

“What game do you think you’re playing, Blaine?” Kurt hissed.

Blaine’s eyes went wide. “I’m not playing any game, this is my life.”

“Why are you bringing kids into this sham of a marriage?” Kurt tried a different tact. 

“Maybe I should have a brandy,” Blaine said, getting up to pour himself one.

“I mean, really, you’re really investing in this aren’t you? I bet you have yourself fooled into believing that it’ll all be perfect.”

Blaine turned on him so fast. “Why can’t it be perfect Kurt? Just because your marriage is a sham? Just because your life isn’t perfect?”

Kurt scoffed.

“I’m not like you.”

“Of course you are,” Kurt said, moving to stand and face Blaine. He stared him in the eyes and inched his face closer. “Tell me that you’re not thinking about kissing me right now.”

Blaine pushed Kurt’s shoulder to move past him and sit back down on the couch, but Kurt grabbed his arm. “Kurt, my wife, my lovely, pregnant wife, is upstairs. I can promise you that I’m not thinking about kissing you right now, no matter how close you get.”

Kurt let go of his arm then, but couldn’t sit down so he paced in front of the fireplace.

“You don’t think you’re being a little ridiculous.”

“Pot, meet kettle,” Kurt said.

“How am I being ridiculous?” Blaine asked, crossing his legs and sipping his drink casually.

“I can’t believe you have sex with her,” Kurt snarled, his voice metered and low, but angrier than Blaine had ever heard it.

“Kurt, we’re married. We have sex.”

“Do you even like it?”

“Um, yes. We’re very compatible.”

“Oh, that’s romantic, that’s sexy. Mmm. Compatibility, such raunchy talk, Blaine.”

“I don’t know why you’re acting like this.”

“Oh, Blaine, so compatible, touch me consistently and I’ll feel suitably appeased,” Kurt said, putting on a falsetto.

“You’re being a complete jerk,” Blaine said.

“Yeah, join the club.”

“Can’t you at least try to be happy for me?”

“What do you want me to say Blaine? Good for you, procreating and pretending to be a normal guy, a model father, commuting to the city, buying a station wagon. Being compatible with his wife at the drop of a hat. What do you want, a party?”

“A little sincerity never hurt,” Blaine muttered.

“But you’re lying to yourself, and you’re lying to your wife and now you’re bringing an innocent baby into the middle of it.”

Kitty and Quinn came down the stairs then. Kitty put a hand on Blaine’s shoulder. “What’s up, pumpkin butt? You look tense.”

“Kurt and I are just discussing the various stressors related to becoming a father.”

Kitty rolled her eyes at her husband. “Oh yeah, it’s so hard on you men. All that standing around and waiting and cigar smoking.”

Blaine laughed.

“I am so tired,” Kitty said, yawning. “Can we head home?”

“Sure,” Blaine said.

Everyone said their goodbyes and as soon as Kurt knew Blaine and Kitty were gone next door, he turned to Quinn.

“I can’t believe him,” Kurt said, his voice once more filled with anger.

Quinn made a small gesture of surrender. “I can’t really blame him. They’ve had a lot of pressure to get pregnant since they got married. He was just fulfilling his duty.”

“Fulfilling his duty,” Kurt said, rolling his eyes. He marched into the kitchen and started doing the dishes, knowing that in his current state cleaning would soothe him at least a little bit. 

Quinn sat at the kitchen table and lit a cigarette.

“I wish you wouldn’t do that in the house,” Kurt said.

“I only do it once Beth is asleep and only in the kitchen,” she said. “And don’t snap at me when Blaine is the person you’re mad at.”

Kurt grasped the edge of the sink with his soapy hands and hunched over his shoulders. “Oh, God, Quinn. You’re right.”

She came up behind him and put a hand on the small of his back. “Kurt, just breathe.”

He squeezed his eyes closed. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so jealous in my entire life,” he admitted. “I thought I got through most of this while they were dating, before they even got married, but hearing him, seeing them.”

Quinn continued to rub Kurt’s back. She’d never seen him like this. He was always so stoic about Blaine, a lot of his feelings went unspoken, but it was like he couldn’t hold it in for even one more second.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, leaning her chin on his shoulder. “It’s going to be okay.”

“How do you know? How do you know it’s going to be okay?” Kurt bit out, echoing Blaine’s words from years before.

“Because you’re you, and he’s Blaine, and no matter what, no matter the circumstances, you’re there for each other. You overcome every obstacle, you are the most supportive friends, you never judge each other.”

Kurt took a deep breath and continued washing the dishes. “Give me a drag of that,” he said.

“You hate smoking,” Quinn said, putting the cigarette up to his mouth.

“I hate the way the smell lingers, but I don’t mind the practice so much,” he said and then took a long pull. 

The kitchen door flew open behind them and Blaine was there, red faced, disheveled, like he had run miles rather than just the ten feet from his back door to theirs. 

“Kitty forgot her purse, so I offered to come get it,” he said, panting.

“Hello again, Blaine,” Quinn said, turning and stubbing out the cigarette. “I’m going up for a bath, I’ll let you two talk.” And with that, she left the room.

“Did I interrupt something?” Blaine asked, looking sheepish.

“Yes. I was doing the dishes.”

Blaine squinted at him.

“It’s not a euphemism, Blaine. I was doing the dishes,” Kurt gestured at the sink behind him.

Blaine shook his head. “Listen, Kurt, I just needed you to know that I’m sorry. And as soon as I got home I realized that I was acting like a jackass and not listening to you. I’m sorry you’re jealous-”

“Oh my God, Blaine!” Kurt bellowed. “Listen to yourself for a second.”

“You’re not jealous?”

Kurt breathed slowly through his nose, making his nostrils flare, preparing to lash out at Blaine but then thought better of it. “Well, yes, I am jealous. But to say you’re sorry I’m jealous sounds so full of yourself that it makes me even angrier.”

“I’m sorry.” Blaine couldn’t quite meet Kurt’s eye after that. “I don’t know what else to say.”

“I’m sorry too. I was being irrational. Just because I don’t understand doesn’t mean that you’re making bad decisions. But I keep thinking about what happens when Quinn finally decides to leave me and I never get to see Beth again and I don’t want the same thing to happen to you.”

Blaine takes Kurt’s hands in both of his. “Quinn will never take Beth away from you like that.”

“She could,” Kurt said. “I have no hold on Beth, no biological hold.”

“You’re the father on her birth certificate.”

“It’s all a lie though.”

“To be fair, I’ll have biological claim on this kid. That will make a difference,” Blaine said.

“So you think about it too?”

Blaine shrugged and dropped Kurt’s hands. “Maybe someday there will be a chance for you and me to really be together and I’d hate to blow it.”

Kurt smiled.

“But for now, I’m with Kitty and you’re with Quinn, and it’s the best for everyone involved.”

“I feel like I’m getting the short end of the stick,” Kurt said. “At least you’re having sex.”

“I thought you and Quinn…” This wasn’t something they talked about regularly, but in the past Kurt had at least alluded to he and Quinn being intimate.

“Well, we try sometimes, and it’s not particularly satisfying for either of us. I end up thinking about you and she’s off in her own little world. And when we’re supposed to feel closest, we actually feel farther apart.”

Blaine nodded seriously.

“I actually felt closer to her when you came in than I have in a long time.”

“There was something intimate about that moment.”

“Anyway,” Kurt said. “We don’t have to keep talking about this.”

“I just didn’t want this to linger between us. And you know, Kitty will eventually start to show and then it’ll be in your face and I didn’t want you to get mad at me over and over again. I hate it when you’re mad at me.”

“You never could handle it. You’re absolutely horrid when it comes to conflict.”

“I can’t help it! I want everyone to get along all the time.”

“How are you a lawyer?” Kurt asked.

“Remember? I’m a good lawyer, a non-greasy lawyer, who fights on the side of good. I can handle that kind of conflict.”

“It’s fine, we’re fine. I promise Blaine.”

“Okay, good, excellent. Thank you.”

Blaine lingered nervously for a second.

“Something else?”

“Well,” Blaine said, pursing his lips and looking at the ceiling. “I wouldn’t say no to a hug.”

Kurt shook his head, but gave Blaine a good long hug.

“And honestly, congratulations. You’re going to be a great father.”

“Thanks,” Blaine said. Then he waved and left. 

When he got home, Kitty was already in bed, curled under the covers, so he joined her as quickly as possible. 

“Welcome back,” she said, kissing him softly. 

“Hi,” Blaine said, and then he leaned towards her stomach. “Hello to you too.”

She laughed. 

He held her tight to his chest and kissed the side of her head. He really was very excited to be a dad and his life with Kitty was good. He had no complaints. His work was good, his wife was good, his mom was good, he was going to be a dad, and he had the best friend a man could ever ask for.

“Did you put my purse in the closet?” Kitty asked just as she was drifting off to sleep.

He had totally forgotten about her purse.


	16. Sh-Boom (Summer, 1953)

The summer Kurt was eleven was his favorite one ever. He and Blaine spent every minute they could at the public pool. For years their moms had made them take swim lessons and now it seemed to finally be paying off. 

Every day was pretty much the same. Kurt would eat breakfast and then sometimes Blaine would come over or sometimes Kurt would go over to Blaine’s. It was an unspoken agreement. They never talked about it when they parted ways the day before, they just knew they would see each other the next day. 

The pool opened at 10, so they would take off on their bikes. Sometimes Kurt’s mom would give them peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to take with them, sometimes they would plan to go home for lunch. But even when it was cloudy and the forecast called for rain, the boys wanted to go to the pool.

A lot of their school friends went to the pool too, but they weren’t quite the zealots that Kurt and Blaine were, and they certainly were never there as early as them. They would show up throughout the day and the boys would welcome them into whatever game they were playing. It was fun and easy. 

It wasn’t until early August that their routine got disrupted.

There was a heat wave and some of the older boys, eighth graders to Kurt and Blaine’s sixth, started going every day and staking out the territory that Kurt and Blaine liked. They certainly didn’t want to fight the older boys so they backed off. But it was as though the older boys could sense Kurt and Blaine’s animosity towards them, and they began targeting the pair in earnest. 

The first day, the older boys called them twerps and babies, but it wasn’t particularly offensive and easy enough to ignore. They would just avoid them.

On the second day Jack Sutton called Kurt a sissy. Blaine didn’t like that one bit, but Kurt told him to ignore it.

A few days later Glenn Curtis and Tommy McGregor called them “mama’s boys” when Kurt’s mom picked them up. But she was picking them up because Kurt had a dentist appointment and she wanted to make sure they got there in time. But of course, there was no time to explain that to the bullies.

It was almost a week later, and the hottest day of the heat wave by far, that things got out of control.

Blaine and Kurt were nowhere near the older boys, having completely ceded all of their territory in the deep end. They were diving for pennies in the four feet area and the older boys came splashing through, pushing them, disorienting them a little. When Kurt got his bearings he said to Blaine, “Oh so scary, getting splashed while I’m already in the pool.”

Blaine looked a little confused for a second, he was still wiping chlorine out of his eyes, but then he smiled. “Yeah, more wet! How terrible.”

It wasn’t the best they could do, but it felt good to say something. Kurt was pretty sure the older boys didn’t even notice. 

But he was wrong. Because when they got out of the pool to eat their peanut butter and jelly sandwiches outside on the lawn, (there’s no eating in the pool area) the older boys picked that moment to walk past.

“Chink!” Tommy yelled, as the four older boys surrounded Kurt and Blaine. 

“What?” Glenn asked, pretending to be confused.

“Anderson’s a chink, you didn’t know that?” Jack asked, like he knew everything.

“Huh, learn somethin’ new every day,” Glenn said.

Blaine put his hands on his hips, trying to make himself look bigger than he was even though his heart was pounding nervously and every inch of his body wanted to run.

“I’m not a … chink,” he said, gulping.

“I heard my mom tell my dad that your dad was a chink, in the chink army even, and your mom prolly never even married him. That’s why you have her last name and not whatever chink one your dad had.”

That was a lot of information to take in, Kurt thought. He never heard a bully throw quite so concise an insult before and it made him think they’d been planning this siege for a long time.

Blaine didn’t know what to say to that though, it was all basically true, except, “My parents were married and they loved each other and my dad died in the war.”

“Yeah, prolly got killed tryin’ to shoot at Americans!”

“No,” Blaine said, feeling unsure. His mom could have told him any story, what if Tommy McGregor knew the truth? What if Tommy McGregor knew the reality of what happened?

“You are a puny, ugly chink!” Tommy yelled.

Kurt couldn’t take it one more minute, and it was Kurt of all people who threw that first punch, socking Paulie Ellis right in the gut because he was closest, making him double over for a split second. Blaine took his cue from Kurt, but he had no idea where to hit, so he punched Tommy in the shoulder and not very hard. 

“Oh, Anderson, that was truly pathetic,” Tommy said, before punching Blaine in the face. 

A crowd had huddled around the fighters, jeering and hooting. Blaine looked up and saw Artie and Sam cheering, and Quinn and a few of the girls in their class at school watching intently or hiding their eyes behind their hands. 

It wasn’t a fair fight, not at all, four big guys against two littler ones, but Blaine and Kurt held their own until the lifeguards pulled them apart, blowing their whistles and tossing kids aside.

“All of you, out!” the lifeguard in charge yelled.

“They started it,” Paulie whined.

“I don’t care, it’s over and you’re all out for the rest of the summer.”

That was terrible news. Not only were Kurt and Blaine in pain, having been pretty soundly beaten up, but now they wouldn’t be able to go back to their beloved pool.

Kurt spoke up. “We did start it, sir,” he said, wincing at calling a sixteen year old boy sir, but he knew he needed him on his side. “Blaine and I threw the first punches. They shouldn’t get in trouble.”

“Well, you’re all out on your keisters today,” the guard said. “And you two are definitely out for the summer.”

Kurt and Blaine kept their mouths shut and slowly walked out of the pool for the last time for the summer. Luckily the older boys ran off and didn’t bother them once they were out.

“Why did you stick up for them?” Blaine asked as they got their bikes from the bike rack. He was going to have a shiner, he could feel it, so he held his cool wet towel to his face hoping to help with the swelling.

“So they wouldn’t bother us the rest of the summer,” Kurt said with a smile.

Blaine’s eyes lit up. “You’re so smart.”

They rode their bikes home awkwardly, Blaine finally getting off and just walking his. His knees were scraped and bloody from the concrete pool deck and they made it painful to peddle. Kurt had a bloody nose and a split lip and his knuckles were cracked from where he punched one of the guys in his wide open mouth at the wrong second.

When Kurt’s mom saw them, she actually screamed. She ushered them over to Blaine’s house where she wanted Blaine’s mom to take a look at the boys.

“We’re fine, Ma,” Blaine insisted. She sat them both down on kitchen chairs, handing Blaine a towel full of ice for his eye and then tending to Kurt’s nose. Mrs. Hummel started working on Blaine’s scraped knees, putting iodine on them and cleaning them up.

“What on earth happened?” Kurt’s mom asked as she tore open a bandaid.

“We, um,” Blaine started. He felt like he should speak for the two of them, since it was Blaine that they boys were targeting. 

“We got in a fight,” Kurt said. “There were bigger boys and they had been saying stuff to us for the past week at the pool and today they were really mean to Blaine and I couldn’t… listen anymore so I punched one of them and we got in a fight.”

Blaine hung his head in shame. He didn’t want to have to tell his mom what the boys said about him, and about her, and about his dad. He felt his eyes fill with tears. 

Betty Hummel knew instinctively that it was time to go.

“Come on, Kurt,” she said, ushering him out the back door. “We’ll figure out an appropriate punishment.”

Kurt took a glance back at his friend, but Blaine wouldn’t look at him. 

Blaine’s mom sat in the chair next to him that Kurt had vacated. Blaine held his ice pack up like a shield between them, not wanting to look at her as tears spilled down his cheeks. Now that the adrenaline rush was over he was scared and tired and hurt. His whole body kind of hurt, including his heart. Maybe his heart even hurt the most.

“Blaine,” his mom said.

He made a little noise in his throat but couldn’t look at her.

“Blaine, what happened?”

“Nothing,” he said.

“Blaine, you have a black eye and scraped knees. And Kurt has a bloody nose and a split lip. I can see something obviously happened and I would like to hear about it from you. Do not even think about lying to me.”

He shrugged.

“It had to be something pretty bad if a good boy like Kurt Hummel decided to hit someone.” Clara Anderson knew it was bad. She tried not to let herself think of the litany of things those boys could have said to Blaine, because she knew all too well what people say. She had been waiting for this, anticipating the day the wrong child caught wind of adult gossip. 

“They called me a chink,” he muttered.

His mom nodded and took the ice from him. She put a soft hand under his chin and turned him to face her. He was crying so quietly that it somehow hurt her more than if he was sobbing. She brushed his hair back from his face and examined the swelling that was already starting near his eye. She bit her lip. Even though she’d been waiting for this, she had no idea how to respond.

“And they said you weren’t married and that’s why we don’t have his last name.” Blaine was never sure what to refer to his father as. He often stuck with pronouns, never feeling right referring to him as “dad.” 

His mom nodded. “People are cruel, Blaine. But you know the truth. Your father and I loved each other very much and it all happened very quickly. I would have changed my name as soon as we got back to the states.”

Blaine nodded and bit his thumbnail, looking at the ground. “I’m not a chink.”

“No, you’re not. You’re half-Filipino and you should be proud of that.” She took his hands in hers and squeezed them. 

“I’m not ashamed,” he said, his voice faltering, and finally looking at his mom. “Why did they want me to be ashamed?”

“Oh, Blaine,” she said, her eyes filling with tears as she pulled him close. He climbed onto her lap, something he hadn’t done in years. She held him close, her gangly eleven year old boy, but he somehow still fit just right. He leaned his head on her shoulder and then he started to sob. 

“I wish I knew,” she said quietly. “I wish I knew why people did that.”

Later that evening, after the boys had gone to bed, she and Clara shared a cigarette over the fence discussing what the punishment should look like. 

“I hate to punish them for sticking up for each other,” Betty said. 

“I know. But I don’t want them thinking they can go around punching people without consequences.”

“We could… ground them for a week?”

“That works. No going out. No bikes.”

“No seeing each other?” Betty said.

“It’s sad, but it’s only a week. They’ll deal.”

“I hate keeping them apart, but they do need to learn…” Betty trailed off.

“And since they’re not allowed at the pool for the rest of the summer, that’s enough of a consequence to turn them into little angels,” Clara said, taking a drag. 

Betty sighed out a little laugh. “Ah, boys.”

“See you in a week!” Clara said, turning to go in.

“Good night,” Betty called.

It was a very long week. Both boys moped around their respective houses. At least the heat wave broke. It seemed to rain almost everyday, so that helped. Blaine read as many books as he could get his hands on and Kurt learned to play five new songs on the piano. 

The day of their ungrounding dawned warm and sunny with very low humidity for mid-August. 

“What are you going to do today?” Blaine’s mom asked with a smile when he came downstairs.

“I don’t know,” Blaine admitted. “Find Kurt? Ride bikes? Go to the park?”

“I’d check our backyard first.”

Blaine looked out the kitchen window and there was Kurt. 

Blaine ran out the back door. 

“Surprise!” Kurt cried.

And Blaine was very surprised, he laughed as he looked at what Kurt had done. Kurt must have been out there for hours, setting up a blow up pool and filling it with water from the hose. Then he set up lawn chairs and a cooler. The sprinkler was in the middle of the pool, making it look like an inviting way to spend the warm day.

“I’m sorry I got us kicked out of the pool,” Kurt said.

“It’s okay,” Blaine said, a bit dazedly.

“Welcome to our backyard oasis.”

Blaine shook his head.

“I convinced my mom to take me to the toy store and I used all my birthday money to buy the pool and I used your bicycle pump to blow it up,” Kurt rambled, a bit nervous.

“This is amazing,” Blaine said, turning towards his friend. “You did all this for me?”

Kurt smiled and shrugged. “I threw the first punch.”

“Only because you were…” Blaine paused, blushing, some emotion he didn’t understand blossoming in his chest. He should feel embarrassed that Kurt heard all of that, that Kurt saw all of that. But he wasn’t. He was happy to have such a good friend. “You were defending me.”

“I’m sorry about your black eye,” Kurt said. “I wish I could have defended you from that.”

“I’m sorry about your split lip and your bloody nose.”

They looked each other for a few seconds, before the noise of Kurt’s back door swinging open and closed took them out of their revery. 

“Here’s some sodas for your cooler,” Kurt’s mom said, handing them to the boys over the fence. “Don’t drink them until lunch though.”

Both boys nodded. 

They settled into their chairs then, dipping their feet in the pool and reading comic books for the morning. They spent the rest of the summer playing in Blaine’s backyard oasis. They would have water fights and invite the other kids in the neighborhood over.

After that summer, they did go back to the pool, but it never held quite the same magic for Blaine. Nothing could hold a candle to what Kurt had done for him the summer they were eleven.


	17. Suspicious Minds (July, 1969)

Kurt got it in his head almost as soon as the event was announced that he wanted to have a barbecue the day the astronauts were scheduled to land on the moon.

“We could have Blaine and Kitty and the kids over,” he suggested to Quinn.

“That sounds fun,” she agreed. “Maybe we could invite a few other people. We have other neighbors besides Blaine and Kitty.”

“Obviously, of course.” Quinn gave Kurt a meaningful look and opened her mouth. But then Beth came in at that moment, looking for juice and her parent’s conversation got derailed.

They made plans and invited people over. Kurt was really excited to try out his new grill. He was experimenting with different marinades and techniques, though he wasn’t sure anyone would really understand his genius when blending citrus with spice.

The day dawned hazy and hot. They set up the kiddie pool out back, and Beth delightedly splashed into it and then stopped, aghast.

“There is a blade of grass in my pool,” she said, pointing into the water.

Kurt paused in his grill cleaning and looked over at her. “For starters, it’s not just your pool today. You’re going to have to share it with the other kids.”

She “hmphed” unhappily and crossed her arms.

“Secondly, just pull out the blade of grass.”

“No,” she said primly, pursing her lips. 

She was so much like Quinn sometimes that it could drive Kurt crazy. He stared at her and she stared right back. They were quite obviously in a standoff over the blade of grass. Kurt did the only thing he could think of and ripped a handful of grass from the lawn and threw it into the pool. He honestly had no idea what came over him in that moment. Sometimes he just got tired. He supposed that’s how all parents felt.

“Daddy!” Beth shrieked, leaping out of the pool.

Kurt crossed his arms.

“I’m telling Mommy on you!” She exclaimed, scampering into the house. 

“Mommy, Mommy,” he could hear her calling through the screened windows as she ran in search of Quinn.

“That’ll teach her,” Kurt mumbled. He knew he couldn’t exactly leave the pool in such a state so he pulled it to the far side of the yard and dumped it out. Then he refilled it with crystal clear water and even put a tarp over it to keep it clean in the interim.

Quinn and Beth slammed out the back door, Beth slung onto Quinn’s hip.

“Beth tells me that Daddy was very mean to her,” Quinn said, winking at Kurt while Beth’s attention was elsewhere.

“I was. I’m very sorry, Bethy. I dumped out the old water and refilled it. See?” Kurt said, gesturing towards the pool.

“Why is it covered?” she asked, as though Kurt was trying to trick her somehow.

“To keep debris from getting into it before the other kids arrive.”

“What other kids are coming?” Beth asked, squinting at Kurt, still staying in Quinn’s arms because she couldn’t quite trust her father yet.

“The twins, our friend Sam is bringing his kids Dave and Lisa, and the Garretts are bringing their grandson Doug.”

“Do you think they’ll have dirty feet?” Beth asked.

“We’ll hose them off before we let them in,” Quinn promised, lowering Beth back onto the grass. “But you really do need to learn to share. What if Mommy and Daddy have a baby someday and you have to learn to share with your new brother and sister?”

“Are you going to have a baby? Like the twins, and I get to take care of the baby?” she asked excitedly.

Kurt gave Quinn a look. “We’re not planning on having a baby, but if it ever happens, of course you can help,” Kurt said.

When Beth was distracted, Kurt turned to Quinn before she went back in the house. “Why would you get her hopes up like that?”

“Why not? We could have a baby. There’s no rule that we couldn’t.”

Kurt raised an eyebrow at her.

“Blaine and Kitty had kids. There’s no reason we can’t,” she huffed. “Or maybe someday I’ll have a baby with someone else. People get divorced all the time now.”

Kurt was shocked. “You want to get divorced?”

“I think about it sometimes,” Quinn admitted. “This isn’t exactly a conversation to have right now. But yes, it’s crossed my mind more than once. We don’t have to keep doing this anymore, not really. Times have changed.”

“They have,” Kurt agreed. 

He hadn’t really thought about it, probably because at this point getting divorced wouldn’t help him much. Blaine was pretty happily married with two young children of his own. They hadn’t even so much as kissed since the twins were born. Kurt needed to come to terms with the idea that Blaine was over him, and that in a lot of ways it was Kurt’s own fault for marrying Quinn in the first place. But six years ago it hadn’t felt like they had a ton of options.

“We don’t have to make any decisions today,” Quinn said, taking note of Kurt’s sad face. “And you’d still get to see Beth, of course.”

Kurt laughed mirthlessly. “Yeah, let’s not worry about it today, but it’s an option.”

“It is,” Quinn agreed, patting his arm and turning to go inside.

Kurt spent the next hour chasing Beth around the yard with the hose and forcing himself to stop thinking about the exchange with Quinn. He took a seat in a lawn chair when Beth decided to make mud pies out of the wet dirt where Kurt had dumped out the first batch of pool water. For a little girl who couldn’t stand to have a blade of grass in the pool with her, he couldn’t understand how she could let herself get caked in mud now.

He watched her and got back to the topic at hand. What would his life look like on the other side of a divorce?

He would let Quinn have the house of course, and he could certainly afford a small apartment in the city on his own, something like the one he and Blaine shared in college. He would be sad at first, coming home to an empty apartment, but everything was changing. With the riots that happened just a few weeks ago and the murmuring about people becoming more accepting of homosexuality…

Kurt could almost imagine that life. But he couldn’t imagine it without Blaine. On the other hand, if Blaine could move on from him with Kitty, who was to say Kurt wouldn’t be able to move on from Blaine with someone else. There were a few men in his office he found very attractive, one that might even find him attractive in return, though neither of them would ever make a move at work. Even if things were changing, they certainly hadn’t changed that much yet.

But there are places he could go to meet men. He knew for a fact there were many bars in the Village. He’d never had the courage to frequent them before, because he feared arrest and being away from Quinn and Beth. 

“Sugar cookie for your thoughts?” a voice said next to him. He turned and there was Blaine smiling at him, holding a tray of cookies.

After Blaine got married and his mom moved to Florida and bequeathed the old house to Blaine, the boys had put a gate into the fence, making traveling between yards much easier. And making sneaking up on each other easier than ever because it was basically the only gate on the planet that didn’t squeak. He wasn’t sure why they didn’t think to put a gate in when they were younger. Probably because they both prefered hopping over the fence and nearly killing themselves in the process most days.

“What?” Blaine asked.

“What what?” Kurt said.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Kurt hummed noncommittally. “Weird conversation with Quinn,” Kurt said under his breath.

Blaine looked at him seriously. “Do we need to talk?”

“Yeah, but it’ll keep. Nothing for you to worry about,” Kurt said, blowing out the breath he was holding.

Blaine nodded and looked at Kurt for a moment longer just as Kitty and the twins tumbled through the gate. They had just turned one and while they could walk, both of them were terrified of grass. Just like their cousin Beth.

“I thought you were going to help me,” she said.

“I am helping!” Blaine said, holding up the plate of cookies.

“You know what I mean,” she said rolling her eyes.

“Yes, pumpkin butt,” Blaine said.

“Pumpkin butt!” Beth’s voice called from across the yard.

“You’re going to pay for that one,” Kurt said to Blaine, going to grab Michael from Kitty and give Jennifer a kiss on the forehead. The twins were the spitting images of their parents, with Jennifer looking just like Blaine and Michael looking just like Kitty. 

A very muddy Beth ran across the lawn then and lumbered towards Kitty. 

“How about we get you cleaned up?” Kitty asked her leaning out of the way before Beth could get mud all over her yellow sundress.

“Sure thing, pumpkin butt!”

“Enough of that,” Kurt warned Beth. “That’s for grownups.”

“Okay,” she said, huffing out a breath.

Blaine handed Kurt the cookies and he and Kitty took the twins inside while Blaine hosed the mud off Beth.

“Dad says I have to share the pool with the twins and the other kids,” she told Blaine matter of factly.

“Dad’s right. That’s what nice kids would do.”

Soon enough the rest of the guests had shown up and Kurt was busy barbecuing and the kids were busy playing and the wives were busy chatting in the kitchen.

And once everyone had filled their plates of barbecue chicken and all sorts of salads, it was time to crowd around the TV for the main event. Kurt looked around the room. There was a ripple of anticipation in the crowd. Even the kids seemed to understand that something important was happening.

He looked at Blaine’s little family unit, all snuggled onto the love seat, Jennifer in his lap, his arm around Kitty who was holding Michael. It pinched Kurt’s heart to see them like that.

“Six minutes!” one of the kids crowed, watching the countdown on the TV.

It didn’t look real, Kurt thought, leaning on the arm of the chair Quinn and Beth were sharing.There was a little alarm that kept sounding on TV, making Kurt nervous and sending shivers up his back. The whole country was watching and counting on this. He wasn’t sure what would happen if there was a tragedy. 

Kurt could hear Quinn murmuring to Beth about how historical this was, and how she would probably remember this moment for the rest of her life. Beth slid off the couch and moved close to the TV.

“That’s really on the moon?” she asked, her voice full of wonder.

“Yes it is,” Kurt said. It was surreal.

The whole room held its breath as the final descent was made. And then as Neil Armstrong exited the hatch. And as he took the first foot step on the moon. The images were blurry and shadowy, but breath taking. Kurt literally could not catch his breath watching it happen.

All too soon the excitement was over. Everyone settled into the living room for a bit, talking about everything and how it looked and the words that the astronaut had spoken. The TV continued playing quietly in the background.

Blaine went into the kitchen to get himself a beer and soon enough Kurt followed him in, under the guise of getting another drink, but really just wanting a moment with Blaine.

“Seems like we should celebrate with more than just beer, ya know?” Kurt said.

“Yeah, one small step for man…”

“One giant leap for mankind.”

“We’re living in a changing world,” Blaine remarked, looking deep into Kurt’s eyes.

“We are indeed,” Kurt said, returning the intensity of Blaine’s look. His mind once again drifted to his earlier conversation with Quinn. He could never ask Blaine to leave Kitty, not after watching his affection for his children, not after seeing how well they got along. Children had changed Blaine and Kitty’s relationship, but from where Kurt was standing they actually seemed closer. They might bicker more at times, but they were never cold to each other.

“You’re doing that thing again,” Blaine said.

Kurt looked at him questioningly.

“Looking at me like I’m a geometry problem that you don’t understand.”

Kurt laughed at that. “You sort of are.”

Blaine smiled.

Kurt turned towards the basement steps. “I have some wine in the basement that I’ve been saving for a special occasion, this feels special to me. I’ll be right back.”

After about ten seconds, Blaine decided to follow him down.

“Kurt,” Blaine called, stepping into the cellar.

“Over here,” Kurt’s muffled voice came. 

“Why don’t you have the light on?” Blaine asked, pulling the string for the bare bulb in the center of the room.

“I don’t know, I thought it was going to be brighter over here by the window but the sun is behind a cloud.”

“I just wanted to say something,” Blaine said, moving close to Kurt who was studying a wine label intently. “On this … historic day.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“I miss you,” Blaine said.

“Still?”

“Of course. Don’t you miss me?”

“Obviously. Every day.”

“Why did we stop?”

“Why did you want to stop?” Kurt asked, shaking his head. “It was you Blaine. You and your happy family, your pretty wife and beautiful kids. I can’t be … the other man to that.”

“I know, but I can’t go on without you.”

“You’ve been watching too many soap operas lately.”

“You always do that!” Blaine said, throwing his hands in the air, startling Kurt enough that he put the wine bottle back on the shelf, worried that Blaine might knock it out of his hands. “You always… act like I’m overdramatic.”

“You kind of are.”

Blaine wilted at those words. “I don’t mean to be. But it feels sometimes like that’s the only way to get your attention.”

“You have my full attention right now,” Kurt said, turning his body to face Blaine. 

Blaine blinked at him and shook his head.

“Now you don’t want it?”

“I want…” Blaine looked at him and moved to push him up against the wall, kissing him. They melted into it, propping each other up as their tongues met and their lips mashed together and their teeth clicked. It wasn’t a pretty kiss, it was a kiss bourne from agitation and feelings that had been ignored for far too long.

“It’s been a long time since we kissed in a basement,” Kurt said, smiling into Blaine’s lips.

Blaine pulled his mouth away and leaned his forehead against Kurt’s, panting hard. “So sorry, Kurt,” he said.

“I know,” Kurt said, running his hand down Blaine’s head and neck. “I know.” Then he found Blaine’s lips again and Blaine shoved his knee between Kurt’s legs, grinding in, taking things quickly to the next level.

They didn’t even hear the footsteps on the stairs until it was too late.


	18. End of the World (December, 1963)

Kurt walked out Quinn’s front door and stood on her front porch in the freezing cold. He was confused, that’s the emotion that was crystal clear for him in the moment. Her confession about being pregnant made him want to act and help, but he knew there was a fine line between what kind of help she would accept and what kind of help he was able to offer.

He walked back home and spent the evening on the couch with his mom, thinking about Quinn. Blaine had wanted them to go back into the city, back to their apartment and spend the night there together. But Kurt came up with a bunch of excuses, all of them full of holes until Blaine had acquiesced, a bit hurt, but Kurt couldn’t worry about that right now. 

All he could think about was how if they acted fast enough, he could genuinely help Quinn with her dilemma, and in turn, she could help Kurt. And if she was helping Kurt, she would be helping Blaine. Because in the end, there wasn’t much that Kurt wanted in the world more than knowing that Blaine was safe. 

Ever since Professor Berry had been arrested and subsequently lost his job, Kurt knew he and Blaine had to change their lives somehow. They had to find a way to make themselves stand out less, no matter how much it hurt.

He could marry Quinn and everything would fine. 

Because if there was one thing that Kurt Hummel was sure of, it was that a night in jail would nearly kill him. And if they found other charges to keep him on, which wasn’t unheard of, a prison sentence would finish him off. 

He looked over at his mom, who was laughing at something ridiculous Jackie Gleason was doing, and he thought about her finding out that he and Blaine were… like that. And he thought about Blaine’s mom, and her face when she learned that her good Catholic son and his best friend in the whole wide world committed such acts together. 

He leapt up from the couch.

“Hon?” his mom said, blinking and looking up at him.

“I need to go see Quinn.”

She looked a little surprised but then smiled. “Okay, don’t impose though.”

“No, I won’t,” he promised. “I just forgot to ask her something earlier.”

He slipped out the door, pulling his coat on as he jogged down the icy sidewalks to Quinn’s house a few blocks over, rehearsing his speech in his head. He probably should have waited until he had something better to say, but he needed to get through this before he second guessed himself. Before Blaine could talk him out of it.

He ran up her front steps, noting her parent’s car wasn’t in the driveway, hoping that she was still home alone. He rang the doorbell and knocked insistently, worrying that she was out of earshot. He had no idea why this all felt so important, so immediate. But he couldn’t stop his forward motion, not until he ran into a wall.

“Quinn,” he breathed when she opened the door.

“Kurt? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” she asked, her face etched with worry. She’d never seen Kurt look so disheveled, his coat misbuttoned, his hair flat and unstyled.

“Yeah, I just… needed… to talk,” he gasped, trying to catch his breath. “Talk to you.”

“Come in, come in,” she said, ushering him through the door. “Lemme get you water.”

He nodded, feeling his breathing get back to normal after the run over here. He shifted from foot to foot nervously as he stood in the foyer of Quinn’s house. Looking at the pictures of Quinn through the years along the stairwell, all he could think was how much he wanted to help her and that he wanted to make this better.

She came back in the living room then. “You wanna sit, or would you rather stand there awkwardly staring at my first grade school picture?”

Kurt smiled and accepted the glass of water before taking a seat on the couch.

“I was thinking,” he said, staring at the floor.

“Okay,” Quinn said, not impatient, but concerned, confused, sitting down next to him. 

“I could help you,” he said, looking her in the eye and repeated the phrase. “I could help you.”

“What? How?”

His hand holding the water glass shook so bad in this moment that water spilled onto the arm of his coat. He put the glass down and wiped the droplets off the wool.

“I have a secret, too,” he said. 

“What is it Kurt?” she asked, her eyes searching his.

Kurt bit the inside of his lip, trying to figure out the perfect way to word this.

“Blaine and I,” Kurt began.

“Are more than friends,” Quinn said, her voice matter of fact.

Kurt sat back, shocked. “What? How do you know that?”

Quinn shrugged. “A feeling, a keen eye, the fact that for years now the two of you have snuck off every chance you get and often come back looking like you had been in a heated wrestling match.”

“Do you think other people know?” Kurt asked, his heart racing. 

Quinn pursed her lips and shook her head.

“Are you… disgusted?” Kurt asked. “Do you hate us?”

“No,” Quinn said, such sincerity in that one word and honesty in her eyes that Kurt didn’t even ask for further reassurance. He sighed with relief and settled back into the couch, shucking his coat and laying it over the arm.

“So, what’s the plan?” Quinn asked. “How can you help?”

“Well, we’d be helping each other. I could help with the baby, and you could make sure that no one finds out about Blaine and me.”

“How?” Quinn asked, raising her hands in question, not putting together the pieces.

Kurt leaned over and took both her upturned hands in his. “We get married.”

“Me and you?” Quinn asked, slipping back, leaning away from him.

“You are disgusted,” Kurt said.

“No, no. Surprised is all.”

Kurt nibbled his lip.

“You would marry me? Really? And be a father to my baby?”

Kurt nodded.

“What about Blaine? What does he think?”

Kurt blinked hard. He couldn’t imagine talking to Blaine about this, couldn’t fathom what that conversation would look like, but he couldn’t lie to Quinn now. 

“He doesn’t know yet. I wanted to talk to you first. This is about me and you.”

“Well, it’s about me and this,” Quinn said, putting a hand to her still flat stomach. “And about you and Blaine. There’s more people involved than just us, Kurt.”

“But everyone would be safe.”

Her chin quivered. “I can’t believe,” she said, sniffling. “I can’t believe you’re really offering this.”

He slid off the couch and knelt in front of her. “I wish I had a ring,” he said, dabbing at her tears with his handkerchief.

She took it from him and pressed it into each eye. “Wouldn’t matter, I’d still say yes. If you really mean it, and you’re really in.”

“I really mean it.”

“On one condition.”

“Anything.”

“You have to tell Blaine. And make sure he knows that it wasn’t my idea, that I’m not somehow… tricking you into this.”

Kurt nodded, tight lipped. He hauled himself back onto the sofa and leaned his head on the back cushion.

“I know. I will.”

“I can’t go around having him hating me.”

“He won’t. He’ll understand. He knows how scared I’ve been.”

She looked at Kurt with a question on her lips, though she wasn’t sure what she wanted to ask.

“A few months ago our favorite professor was arrested and fired for being like us,” Kurt explained.

Quinn nodded, understanding dawning, things finally, fully clicking into place. Kurt was doing this out of fear, and out of a sense of wanting to help people. His instincts were good, Quinn had always felt like Kurt was reasonable and responsible. She worried about his intentions, but she was so relieved, she decided in that split second to just go with it.

“I used to think about marrying you in high school,” Quinn confessed. “I had such a crush on you.”

“Really?” Kurt asked, surprised.

“Why do you think I invited you to the Sadie Hawkins dance?”

“Because I was a safe option,” Kurt said.

Quinn laughed. “That was what I wanted you to think.”

“Huh, interesting,” Kurt said. “I never would have guessed.”

“That’s good news. That’s how I wanted it. Different circumstances and this would be a dream come true.” Quinn squeezed his arm. “You should go talk to Blaine.”

The grandfather clock chimed 7:30.

“You’re right,” Kurt said, hauling himself off the couch. Quinn stood with him.

“Let’s shake on it,” she said. “We’ll work out the details as they come up.”

Kurt nodded and shook her hand, then pulled her into a tight hug.

“Good luck with Blaine,” she called from her front door as Kurt slipped and slid down the front walk. He turned and waved and picked his way back home. His brain was full of phrases and snippets from the conversation he just had, and trying to turn those phrases and snippets into something that Blaine would understand.

He walked through Blaine’s back door.

“Blaine?”

“Kurt?” called his voice from the basement.

Kurt went down the stairs and took in a deep breath. Blaine was down there, standing over a wood working bench, filing down a piece of wood.

“My mom was going to buy a door stop,” he said, incredulously. “A plastic door stop. I wouldn’t let her. It was too ridiculous.”

“We have to talk,” Kurt said. 

Blaine finally stopped what he was doing to look at Kurt, to really see him. “What? What is it? I knew something was wrong.”

Kurt sat on the steps a few from the bottom and Blaine came to stand in front of him. 

“Is your mom here?” he asked.

“No, she went to church, it was her turn to oil the pews or something.”

Kurt squeezed his eyes shut, and felt his hands shake again. Blaine reached to take them in his own and Kurt pulled away.

“I need you to listen.”

Blaine stood there, scared now; Kurt never pulled away from him like that.

Kurt swallowed. “Quinn’s pregnant.”

Blaine put a hand over his mouth.

“And I’m going to marry her.”

It was like Blaine’s face cracked down the middle, all the pain of what he heard and what he assumed Kurt meant quickly apparent.

“You’ve… been… with Quinn?” Blaine asked, his voice so quiet and raw Kurt had to leap up and hold him. It was Blaine’s turn to pull back.

“No, no, I swear nothing like that. She’s pregnant from some other guy. They can’t get married though, so I thought I’d marry her.”

Blaine put a hand up to his forehead, he felt like he was dreaming, having a nightmare, he could barely catch his breath, but at least Kurt hadn’t been cheating on him. He tried to hold on to that fact, while he listened to Kurt rattle off his list of reasons this was a good idea.

“And it’ll keep us safe, Blaine,” he concluded. Blaine had barely caught any of what Kurt said, he couldn’t focus, he put his arms around himself and backed against the wall.

“This is wrong.”

“This is safe,” Kurt countered.

“How could you? How can you do this? Live a lie like that?”

Kurt shrugged. “Maybe it won’t be a lie. Maybe I’ll get used to the idea. Maybe it’s the best thing for all of us.”

Blaine put a hand up to his mouth, honestly feeling like he might be sick.

“This is wrong,” he said again, words muffled behind his hand. The phrase was a constant refrain in his head.

“It’s not the end of the world,” Kurt said. “Maybe Quinn will let us have an arrangement or something.”

Blaine whipped his head up to stare at Kurt, his eyes ablaze. “Quinn knows about us? About me?”

“I had to explain. That I would keep her secret if she would keep mine. It was only fair.”

“And now she has to keep my secret too,” Blaine said. This day had gone horribly, horribly wrong. It was all skewed and wrong. He bit his lip to keep from crying and prayed that Kurt would just leave. 

“Blaine,” Kurt whispered, stepping closer to him. “Blaine please look at me.”

Blaine slid down the wall, landing hard on his tail bone on the concrete floor and not caring. Not caring that the seat of his pants would be dirty, not caring that Kurt wanted him to look at him. It wasn’t right, none of it. Blaine drew his knees up tight and put his head in his arms and cried silently, tears dripping down onto his pants.

Kurt threw his coat over the banister and sat next to Blaine for a long time. He didn’t even know how long. Until his butt was numb and his back was frozen, until Blaine finally looked up, eyes rimmed in red, cheeks streaked with tears. He shook his head at Kurt, the disappointment apparent.

“It’s for us, Blaine. For us and Quinn and her baby.”

“Why?”

“Because of… life. The world. My mom, your mom, Quinn’s mom. Professor Berry and the paddywagons.”

Blaine ran his hands into his hair and squeezed his eyes shut tight again. 

“We can’t make it all go away,” Kurt said soothingly, rubbing a hand in circles on Blaine’s back, feeling how cold it was. “We can only protect ourselves.”

“I hate it,” Blaine choked. “I hate it. I hate the world, and this idea, and the whole situation. But I love you and I want you to feel safe. And if this is what it takes, then this is what it takes. And we have time until the wedding.”

“Um, not really. Not if Quinn and I are going to be married before she starts to show.”

Blaine’s breath caught in his chest. It was all too real.

Kurt stood and put his hand out to him. Blaine ignored it and hauled himself onto his feet, dusting his backside. “Come on, before we die down here,” Kurt said, taking his coat and gesturing towards the stairs.

Blaine wanted to say something dramatic, but more than anything he wanted Kurt to go away. In that moment, he needed to be alone. Blaine tried to think of something to say to Kurt, to make him leave, but he felt sort of dead inside, and like he was sinking. Like the world was falling to pieces in his hands.

Kurt turned around and put a hand on both sides of Blaine’s face. “I love you. I’m doing this because I love you.”

Blaine tried to wiggle out of the grip.

“Do you understand?” Kurt asked.

A lone tear dribbled down Blaine’s face. Kurt honestly had no idea why he wasn’t crying himself, he could never let Blaine cry alone. But that one tear was going to be his undoing.

“I hate it,” Blaine whispered. “It’s wrong.”

“I love you,” Kurt said again, his voice wet this time.

“I love you too,” Blaine finally said.

They kissed as their tears mixed together and formed oceans between them.


	19. So Happy Together (July, 1969)

Kitty’s gasp was what drew Blaine and Kurt out of their reverie. 

“What?” she asked, horrified, bringing her hand up to her mouth.

“Kitty,” Blaine breathed through kiss swollen lips. His hair was mussed up in the back from Kurt’s hand. Kurt didn’t say anything, just turned his face away and dropped his hands from Blaine’s waist. 

It took Blaine’s body a minute to catch up with the situation and he finally untangled himself from Kurt and pushed of the wall. He knew he needed to turn around and face the music. He had known this day would come.

He definitely hadn’t expected it to happen the same day as the moon landing.

He tried to find some poetic justice in there, but his brain wasn’t working. Particularly not in the face of Kitty’s obvious rage.

“What the hell are you doing?” she snarled. “Are you kissing Kurt? Why are you kissing Kurt?”

Blaine swiped at his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Well,” he said, looking from Kitty to Kurt and back again. Kurt looked like he was trying really hard to fade into the wall and would not make eye contact with Blaine. “Well, Kitty. Um. I love Kurt. I’m in love with Kurt. I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”

Kitty stared at Blaine, not moving a muscle, hands clenched in tight fists. Blaine felt the heat of her eyes boring holes into him. But aside from that, everything was lighter, his heart, his head, his conscience. He reached back to take Kurt’s hand and was happy when Kurt twined their fingers together. He needed to know that Kurt was there for him, and that he supported him in the end, even if this wasn’t planned. 

Blaine held her stare and then her face softened.

“I have been kidding myself for so long,” she said, sniffling. Her tears stung him, because she wasn’t a cryer. “You have made a fool out of me. I just, I should have realized. I knew something… wasn’t right, but then the kids were born, and things felt better. And I really thought you loved me.” 

“Oh, Kitty, oh honey, I do. I really do love you.”

“Blaine, you just confessed to being in love with a man, of all people, and now you’re going to try to trick me into believing that our whole marriage, our whole life, wasn’t just a sham?” she asked, running her fingers under her eyes to catch the tears.

He approached her slowly, like an animal he didn’t want to run away. He didn’t want to drop the grip on Kurt’s hand, but Kitty needed him.

He wasn’t slow enough, because the next thing he knew she was up the stairs and out the back door with a slam. He turned back to Kurt.

“I’m sorry.”

“Go,” Kurt said.

“Watch the twins?”

“Of course.”

Blaine followed in Kitty’s footsteps and Kurt was hot on his heels, but instead of following Blaine out the door, he hung a right and went back into the living room, where most of the guests had dispersed, much to Kurt’s relief.

Quinn was cleaning off the dining room table and Beth was entertaining the twins on the living room rug. Quinn looked up when she realized that Kurt was watching her in the doorway. Her blonde ponytail swung behind her when she shook her head, immediately sensing something was wrong.

“Kitty walked in on Blaine and me.”

“Oh,” Quinn said, putting the mostly empty platter of deviled eggs back on the table. 

Kurt nodded.

“Oh,” she repeated.

“I think we’re in charge of the twins while they fight it out.”

Across the way, Blaine and Kitty fought, and then talked, and then cried, and then fought some more. For hours and hours it went on. At one point she was going to get the twins, but Blaine said he had asked Kurt to watch them.

“How is Kurt going to explain this to Quinn?” she asked, face aghast once more.

“Well. Quinn kind of already knows. She’s been keeping our secret since college.”

Kitty’s eyes went wide with anger and the arguing began anew. It lasted until long after dark. Kurt and Quinn could hear a lot of it, not the words but the sentiment. They got the kids ready for bed, giving them baths. The families spent so much time together their belongings often bled together, so it wasn’t odd to the twins to be there without their parents. And it wasn’t exactly a hardship for Kurt to set up the playpen and got them settled in.

Kurt stayed in the living room that night, sleeping on the couch, not prepared to face Quinn and have a serious discussion, which would probably lead to an argument, which will inevitably lead to divorce. Divorce didn’t sound like such a scary word anymore though, not now that he and Blaine would be single again together.

He heard a noise in the yard around eleven and wanted to scare away the raccoon that had been tormenting his back garden, so he ran to the window and saw the lit tip of a cigarette.

Unless the raccoon had picked up smoking, Kurt was fairly certain his garden was safe.

He pulled on his pants and ran down to the basement where he grabbed the bottle of wine had been abandoned earlier. He uncorked it and then quietly slipped out the back door. Blaine was camped out on a sleeping bag, laying on his back, staring at the stars, and puffing away at a cigarette.

The moon wasn’t full but it seemed bright enough out anyway. Kurt sat down next to his friend, who glanced over at him and smiled the most pure, unburdened, relieved smile that Kurt had seen in years.

“You look awfully happy for a man who’s been fighting with his wife for five hours straight.”

Blaine stared up at the half moon, a smile ghosting across his face. He held up his hand and closed his one eye and pretended to squeeze the moon. 

Kurt took a long gulp of wine and then looked at Blaine. “Trade?”

Blaine handed him the half smoked cigarette and took the wine, tipping it carefully in his mouth. 

“Can you believe there are people up there?” he asked Kurt, eyes still trained on the moon.

Kurt decided to placate his friend, who had quite obviously become unhinged by the day’s events. “It’s really amazing.”

“It kind of makes all this bullshit down here seem infinitesimal,” Blaine said, exhaling.

Kurt shook his head and chuckled. “You really do love to find something poetic in just about everything.”

Blaine sat up and looked at him. “I do. I was literally thinking about that today in the basement. I need to find meaning and beauty in all sorts of things. And I kept trying to find a way to make this make sense, to figure out why Kitty found out about us, today of all days. And then it came to me. Because a man walked on the moon and made us all feel small.”

His eyes danced and Kurt smiled with him.

“I’m so sorry it happened,” Kurt said.

“It’s okay. It was coming. I would have liked to have waited until the kids got a little older, but you know maybe it’s better this way. They’ll never remember us being married, they’ll never think it was their fault we got divorced.”

“You are being really logical about all of this.”

“I try,” Blaine said, laying back down. Kurt laid down next to him and stubbed out the cigarette. Blaine put his arm out and Kurt nestled into him, feeling brazen. It was nearly midnight, their neighbors weren’t watching and their wives both knew. But it still felt big.

“So you feel okay?” Kurt asked.

“I feel better than okay.”

Kurt hummed and smiled. Things were changing.

“I’ll explain it this way. When you got married, I locked myself in my room for three days and listened to Patsy Cline records over and over again.”

“I’m sorry-” Kurt started to say.

Blaine cut him off. “That’s not the point. The point is, Kitty wants a divorce, she basically kicked me out of the house and I want to listen to music like Build Me Up Buttercup and So Happy Together.”

“I can’t see me loving nobody but you,” Kurt sang.

“For all my life,” Blaine sang back.

“It’s not going to be perfect.”

“Of course not, not by a long shot. We made some … weird choices because of the world we live in. I don’t want to call them mistakes. I could never think of Michael and Jennifer as mistakes, and I know you feel the same about Beth.”

Kurt nodded.

“But we felt our hands were tied. And we still can’t be out and proud, but things are happening Kurt, and we can be part of it all.”

“We can,” Kurt agreed. Blaine’s optimism was contagious.

“And I’m a very good lawyer. So we won’t lose our shirts in the divorce.”

He sat up suddenly.

“What, Blaine? What’s wrong?”

“I keep assuming you’re getting divorced too,” he said, grimacing. He took a long swig from the wine bottle and studied his hand. “I might be alone.”

“Actually,” Kurt said. “Remember I mentioned something I needed to talk to you about? With Quinn?”

“This afternoon? Yeah. What was that?”

“She mentioned getting divorced.”

“No way.”

“Yes way,” Kurt said, nodding and grinning.

Blaine tackled him back onto the sleeping bag, kissing his neck.

“I love you so much, Kurt,” he said over and over again.

“I know, Blaine,” Kurt whispered. “I love you too.”

Then Blaine rolled off of him and smiled smugly at the night sky.

“What’s that face?”

“I guess I never thought I’d get exactly what I wanted.”

“If what you wanted is to accompany me inside to check on your sleeping children, then you’re going to get exactly what you wanted right this instant.”

Blaine slapped his forehead. “I’m so sorry we stuck you with the kids all evening,” he said.

“It’s fine. We’re always ready for them,” Kurt said. He had one more question before they went inside. “How’s Kitty handling this?”

“Well, she slapped me in the face when I told her that you and I have basically been together since we were sixteen.”

Kurt chuckled at that and then sobered. “I feel bad for her.”

“I know. She’s upset. She doesn’t know what to tell her parents. She doesn’t like that people are going to talk about us, and that they’re going to judge us.”

Kurt nodded sympathetically.

“She said she should have married the oil baron that her parents wanted her to. I was a rebellious thing. The young, broke lawyer with the hand me down house and the suits bought off the rack.”

“I had no idea her parents wanted her to marry an oil baron.”

“That was back in the days when she was vehemently anti-marriage.”

“Ah, the good old days,” Kurt said.

He picked at some lint on the sleeping bag. “Then she yelled for a little while about me being sick, that I’m going to hell,” he paused, swallowing hard.

Kurt touched his arm. “You don’t have to talk about it…”

“No, no. I need to get it out. She said I had something wrong with me, and that only a pervert would ever kiss another man. It was all bluster. She’s not really a bigot like that. I don’t think she believes any of it, she was just lashing out.”

Kurt rubbed Blaine’s arm. “It still hurts though.”

“It does,” Blaine agreed. And then he looked at Kurt. “But it’s okay. It’s not anything I wouldn’t have expected. And I really do think she’ll apologize for that part.”

“What’s she doing now?”

Blaine frowned. “She basically cried herself to sleep, but not before yelling at me to leave her alone. Hence how I ended up in your backyard.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here,” Kurt said.

“I’m glad I’m here too.”

“Let’s go inside. You can have the couch and I’ll head upstairs by Quinn.”

“Or you could stay on the couch with me.”

“I could, but you have to promise me not to cuddle me too hard.”

Blaine laughed. “I don’t think I could promise that.”

Kurt stood and put his hand out to help Blaine up. When Blaine stood, they looked into each other’s eyes.

“We’re gonna do this right?” Blaine asked.

“I think we’re already doing it. I don’t know that we have much of a choice.”

“I’m scared.”

“Me too,” Kurt admitted. “But we’ll be careful for now.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

They kissed then, in Kurt’s backyard, in front of God and the astronauts on the moon and the raccoon that was digging up Kurt’s garden at that very moment.


End file.
